Ties that Bind and Tear Apart
by Orin Drake
Summary: 5th in the Sins series. Several months after Fool's Journey. Perhaps things are coming together... but they seem more to be ripping apart.
1. Chapter 1

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?   
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.   
Also note, for this chapter: In my version of the video at the end of the game, let's just say that the camera doesn't cut out as quickly. In other words, a certain someone actually does appear. So there. 

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart   
Chapter 1   
By Orin Drake 

_Day off, day off, day off..._ played through her mind. Normally she wouldn't care quite so much... but when it meant Vincent had to handle dignitaries alone, she just got a damn kick out of it. It wasn't as if Laguna minded at all--he was glad as long as she was happy. Great thing to have him as a grandfather.   
Besides, she'd put in a hell of a lot of work just the week before. It had been time to clean out all of the random bits of paper that had no business being used in such a technologically advanced city to begin with, and she'd sorted. For hours. Through piles of paper higher than the desk. Three paper cuts, even. Three piles were constructed in every room: one to keep, one to ask about, and one to shred. The shredding was her favorite part.   
Feet up on the arm of the sofa, leaned lazily back with her cup of coffee, she was enjoying the stillness of the early morning. A terribly weird thing to be up early on a day off, but she'd gotten to appreciate how the sun looked as it came through the window, the songs of the birds... never would have believed it.   
As for Rodger, he was still upstairs, face-down on the bed. He'd promised, twice, that he was "just getting up". Never made it past the pillow, but his intentions had been good.   
John... had a job to do. Every so often, he'd have to find the portal back to Hell for what he called a "little look-see". Just to make sure that nothing terrible was happening in his absence. And it was probably a bit of a fun vacation from just following the other two around all day. Not that he minded that, of course. It was a few days of excitement before a _long_ rest period full of inappropriate behavior and pizza.   
_Mmmm, pizza..._ Kyrie pondered over another sip of coffee. Sure it was early, but cold pizza for breakfast was a good thing. Not to mention, the only time she got to enjoy that little delicacy was when John went away; for being relatively skinny and quite tone in structure, the boy could pack food away in miraculous ways. And not always politely.   
Not that she should speak. Sure she had the excuse of harboring mastered Materia to "feed", but... well. She also had to make sure to do physical training at least five times a week. That sucked, but the results were worthwhile; a fact even better represented with her happening to be in only her underwear, strewn over the couch. Hell, it was her _day off_.   
Life had been without serious incident for several months. Quistis was still dating Mr. Absent-Minded Professor (great guy, but certainly in need of a... keeper). Ellone had found someone she had interest in, even if Laguna was questioning him at every turn (hey, a president can't be too careful... or too curious). Cloud was still minding the shop... though his lunch hour had stretched into two, just so he could get to the Presidential Palace to bullshit with everyone. Hey, he could afford it. Vincent, meanwhile, was pretty much exactly the same... with a few more lewd comments here and there. While Irvine displayed no interest in slowing down, Selphie had met a man (who truly turned out to be a nice guy, pleasantly enough) by accident in a supermarket. Kyrie and Rodger had only met him once in passing, but plans had been made to have dinner with them. At least that would alert the poor guy to what he was getting into.   
The sudden clumsy stumbling down the stairs was certainly Rodger having discovered he was alone in bed--a thing he was most certainly no longer used to. He smirked at his wife's state of undress, rather enjoying it. "All to myself, huh?"   
"Ah, you're too tired." She teased, making note of his more-unkemp-than-usual hair. "We had all the time in the world last night, but noooo, _someone_ had to get all tired."   
The smirk softened a little as he leaned over the sofa, drawing closer. "That's because _someone_ was already _made_ quite tired due to _early morning 'activities'_ before work."   
"Excuses." She threw back lazily. "You don't drink enough coffee, darlin'."   
He grinned at her slip. Every once in a while, he'd slide back into the speech he remembered his father using ("classic cowboy", he'd called it). Apparently, it had finally carried to her. It was just... amusing. She'd also picked up John's thousand and one uses for the word "babe"... though that was hardly an accident. Sometimes it knocked his cockiness down a peg or two in extremely necessary areas. Her husband surprised her by quickly leaping over the back of the couch and landing right next to her.   
She was just glad her coffee cup was only half full. "Too late to make up for it now." She joked, quietly.   
"I'm not making up for anything. I'm trying to steal your spot."   
"Pft, fine." She somewhat ungracefully slipped off the couch, turning her wrist with ease so not a drop of her precious life essence was spilled. That done, she took a drink of the still-hot beverage and sat on the floor for a moment. Hey, no rush.   
Rodger took his opportunity to stretch out in her previous spot, reaching down to run his fingers through her hair. "Hey, your birthday is in a few days, isn't it..."   
Interesting question... "I believe I've officially reached the point where I damn well don't care to celebrate getting older."   
He gave her a joking glare. "Oh, yeah. I mean, twenty-four is older than dirt."   
She pretended not to notice, trying hard to keep a straight face. "Feels it."   
While he understood... "Enjoy it. Free cake, free presents. And who knows what gifts you might be able to wrangle from certain individuals..."   
"Dream come true." She agreed half-heartedly. "So... what'd ya get me?"   
"A vacuum cleaner." He joked, dangerously.   
"The same one they'll find you beaten to death with, right?" she asked in her sweetest tone.   
"That's the one!" He shook his head, finally forcing himself into a sitting position. "I suppose I should go take a shower."   
Getting up sounded like too much trouble... "Why? I haven't yet. It's our _day off_."   
"Well, _some_ of us like to be clean and sexy." He stuck his tongue out.   
"Who?" she challenged. "All I know are the _dirty_ and sexy."   
He placed his palms together, closed his eyes and spoke in a very deep, slow voice. "We must embrace both the clean and the dirty to become whole..."   
"The dirty is so much easier to embrace." She commented. "Oh, fine, shower. Then _I'll_ just have to shower, and the whole day will be ruined."   
"Happy Early Birthday." He grinned, patting her lightly on the head as he got up, then headed straight up the stairs. "I'll expect you to look like that for the rest of the day!" he called back.   
"Since when has anything you expected actually mattered, dear?" she called up just as sweetly. Like she had plans to wear anything else, anyway.   
Well, since she was up and semi-aware, may as well turn on the TV and explore the world of insane politics. Though, on second thought, maybe cartoons were in order. At least they were generally amusing before the second cup of coffee... and, admittedly, very often even beyond that.   
She'd just settled in for some ridiculously "educational" cartoon when, of all things, the _doorbell_ rang. She gave a glance to the window, annoyed that the curtains obscured her looking out... but glad they also obscured anyone's view looking in. She darted to the closet and pulled out a long coat, wrapping it around herself quickly. Much as she'd have liked to have opened the door in only a bra and panties... something told her that might be frowned upon by... anyone that could have been at her doorstep. Lacking in robes (there was no reason for them, really), the soft duster coat was the next best thing. Confident that she could kick just about anyone's ass in any state of undress, she looked through the peep hole... and found herself stunned. Almost enough to have forgotten to open the door at all, which would have been quite a rude thing in hindsight.   
"Mr. Kinneas." Of all the people in the world not to expect at her front door... "Rodger's in the shower at the moment..."   
The man shook his head, indicating that there was no need to disturb the manner of things He was clearly in work attire; suit and tie, hair back in only the most perfect of ways... no hat. "Oh, no problem. I'll be in town again next week, actually. This isn't really a... visit..." he trailed off, other thoughts seeming to overcome him. "Here, I just... wanted to drop this off."   
Kyrie accepted a small box handed to her... trying to hide her apprehension. It was all too... weird. "S-... Sir?"   
He waved the title off. "Just Irvine, by now." He assured her, as he had on occasion. "I... found this a few days ago, going through some old things. Not sure how I wound up with it, it was really Selphie's... Point being, I called her about it and we both felt that you ought to have it. A keepsake."   
She was suddenly less than grateful--though she had no reason to appear rude. "Well... thanks for the thought."   
He smiled and nodded, that old Kinneas charm gleaming through. "Tell Rodger hi for me. And that I'll be back to see him in a week."   
She nodded, intending to say, _"Yes, Sir"_... until she noticed him looking her up and down, ever so slightly. That earned him a smirk only barely covering her interpretation of the Leonhart Glare. Hey, it was understood. They nodded and parted ways, door closed and locked behind her.   
Irvine had traveled all the way to her house... just to drop off a video. Scary. She stared at it for a while... then walked over to sit on the couch and wait. No way she was going to watch it alone. 

Rodger whistled down the stairs, all ready for a full day of doing absolutely nothing of value at all. He stopped short at the sight of Kyrie on the couch in a duster. "Hey, what's with the clothing?"   
"Your father was just here." She leapt straight for the blunt explanation. Although, yes, he did have a point; she dropped the duster.   
Which part of that had made him pause wasn't important. "...Oh..?"   
"To drop this off. A video. Marked, 'SeeD party'." She lifted the tape for him to see, wondering... so many things. "He said to tell you hi, by the way. He's planning to come back and visit next week."   
Weirdness on top of weirdness... and it clearly escaped neither of them. He shook his head, without explanation. "Well... did you want to watch it?"   
Funny thing was, she couldn't come up with an accurate answer for that. She surrendered to absolute silence, staring intently at the television. Tapes were old, outdated, replaced by disks... but she happened to have kept her parents' VCR. For no particular reason, really... it had just been one of those things she hadn't felt much of an urge to get rid of.   
Rodger watched the process of her thoughts from what felt like a great deal of distance. Things had been going so... smoothly, lately. Of course it was about time for something stupid to come along and destroy it. Though... maybe it wasn't really that bad. Maybe it was all just... a SeeD party. Happy times. Drunken people.   
The decision was swift and quiet; she put the tape down on the coffee table, then went about retrieving the VCR from "somewhere in the back of the closet". A remarkable task on the best of days, it didn't really take that long to find and pull out of the mess. She knew better than to think she could live with herself if she didn't see that tape as soon as possible... even if it wasn't quite as marked. Damn curiosity; a few minute reconnections to the back of the television and they had the old device working.   
Actually putting the tape in the machine was a slow step. Second thoughts, disturbing possibilities... but they meant nothing when Rodger dropped casually onto the couch, waiting. It was a comfort to know he was there, certainly... she pressed the tape in the slot and backed away to sit beside her husband.   
After a short breadth of darkness and snow, a familiar face. They both laughed at Selphie's immediate enthusiasm of just being alive, let alone working a camera on top of it. Next came Quistis, looking young and gorgeous, dainty and polite--immediately out-hammed by an extremely hyper Irvine. And then Cid, appearing grateful to be relaxing... and Edea, hardly looking the evil Sorceress she was once believed to be. Zell was unceremoniously stuffing his face, a none-too-graceful piece of bread flung at the camera when he realized his eating habits were being committed to video. It was all a party atmosphere, to be certain.   
Then Selphie pointed... and the camera panned...   
Kyrie felt herself wince a little, not expecting the next scene. So... that... was Rinoa. Kind of... eerie. She was a pretty girl, no doubt about that... but something deeply internal told her she had no business looking.   
It was when the camera panned again, however... Squall. In a bomber jacket and leather pants... smiling, a little. Totally oblivious to the camera as he strode to Rinoa and embraced her.   
As the tape cut suddenly to snow due to a low battery (according to the blinking signal in the corner), the witnesses blinked. Repeatedly. In silence. It was just... damn weird. Not _bad_, per se, but... so strange. There had been plenty of pictures of them all from various time periods... but never on video. Never _moving_... all alive, in the same place... together. As comrades.   
Seifer hadn't been on the tape, obviously... but he was the biggest ham of all. He had a huge collection of photographs of himself, interestingly enough. Never a video... that they knew of. Or hoped to know of, more than likely.   
Kyrie finally spoke up, breathless. "That was fucking weird."   
"I agree." Rodger admitted. Seeing his parents so young was actually a little... creepy in some strange way. "But Quistis was really hot."   
"Glad you enjoyed yourself." She grinned, getting up to rewind the tape... and probably put it with the VCR right back in the dark depths of the closet. Speaking of, though... "I kinda feel like going to visit Quisty, now."   
He got the gist of the situation. She wanted to ask Quistis if she wanted to see the tape... or perhaps simply leave it with her, washing her hands of the whole thing. "Well, it _is_ our day off. And now that I've seen that tape..."   
"Behave." She joked, knowing better. "I imagine she still carries a whip around sometimes."   
His eyes rolled back slightly. "Ooooooohhh."   
Ejecting the video, she walked over and mock-hit him in the chest. "Not to mention that's _her_ God Save the Queen on our wall."   
"Ooooooohhhh, again." He teased, grasping her wrist as she moved to hit him again, using mild force to pull her down on his lap.   
Not that she didn't appreciate her surroundings, but... "If we want to get there before the rush, we'll have to leave soon. Of course, this will mean that I'll have to wear clothes."   
"Damn. Didn't think of that one." He ran his fingertips all too lightly across her exposed back, the touch almost nonexistent. "Are you sure?"   
What a horrible question to have asked... "Yeah, afraid so." She sighed, not particularly _wanting_ to remove herself from the touch. "Naked on the train didn't really work out well. Too many windows. I only want certain people sharing."   
He grinned, seeing her point. "Oh, fine. Let's go get ready, then." 

A _quick_ shower for Kyrie was a rare thing. She was fully capable, as she'd just proven--she just didn't particularly like them. There seemed hardly a point if you weren't going to lounge around and use up all the hot water... forcing anyone who had planned on showering after you to wait while half-naked and... well. Good things usually happened there. They all had good hygiene, it's not like "the unshowered" made "the showered" filthy or anything. Well, not in _that_ sense.   
She was smiling with that thought the whole time she got dressed. They _did_ have to hurry up to get to the station before the massive rush... but...   
Her thoughts were interrupted by a very obvious sound downstairs--the door. Not a knock, but the use of a key. Only one person actually used a key before knocking.   
"I found my way back!" a familiar voice shouted up. "Even though you keep giving me the wrong directions to get here!"   
With no hesitation, Kyrie bounded down the stairs (since the banister wasn't really suited for sliding), directly into the waiting arms of a second-generation demon hunter. "Hey you cocksucking demon spawn." She greeted warmly.   
"I can feel the love." He quipped, catching and squeezing her hard. It felt good to be back, to put it lightly. He hadn't been gone for any more than two weeks... but it sure as hell felt like longer in that damned place.   
Rodger sauntered down the stairs, seeing no rush... and still feeling a little tired. Or maybe that was lazy. Well, either way. He let out a deep sigh of relief at the bottom step. "Now she's got a baby-sitter."   
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Nu-uh!"   
John grinned, rather "gently" spilling her onto the floor in favor of a greeting "manly hug" for the "man of the house". "I thought we agreed that we were going to _hire_ a baby-sitter for her."   
"No one could afford that kind of effort." Rodger returned.   
Kyrie remained on the floor, glaring at the two of them--until John decided he may as well scoop her back up. She made a half-serious attempt to squirm away, but ultimately knew better; he knew her pressure points.   
"So." The silver-tressed boy swung her over his shoulder to irritate her further. "What have I missed?"   
She wasn't _entirely_ appreciative of being in that position... but at least she could see his ass. "We were actually on our way to see Quistis. Up to following?"   
Like he had anything better to do. "Definitely. As long as I get something to eat along the way."   
"Better not look in the fridge." Rodger grinned at his wife's deadly glare over her shoulder.   
John moved directly toward the kitchen, Kyrie in tow. He ignored the kicking protests, opening the Glorious Cold Food Box--and gasping. "How dare you let this pizza get cold. Actually, how dare you put it in the refrigerator in the first place."   
"_Some_ of us _like_ left-overs." She argued, gearing up for more before she found herself somewhat flipped over his shoulder and stood upon the floor. Once she gained her balance again, she continued. "Besides, we should get to the station before it's packed."   
It was too late, however. John already had the pizza box in hand. "Okay. Let's go."   
With a smirk, she followed. Well, it was good to have him back, anyway.   
On her way back to the living room, though... well, it was... weird. Her inner ear told her that she had tripped, or possibly fallen through something... obviously, it was mistaken. Her eyes saw nothing of the sort... though they did seem to see a dimming of daylight, lasting several seconds. She easily could have ignored both of those senses, convincing herself that it was just an ear infection or perhaps dehydration... but the Materia weren't fooled; they'd stopped moving. It was only a second, if that... but she couldn't ignore the feeling of absolute motionless inside of her. Not when she'd felt them spinning every second of every day for years.   
All things considered, it'd only lasted for a slight fragment of time... but it was still concerning. What _was_ that... that feeling? That... not quite _emotion_, really, but... movement. Motion of more than body. A _shift_. Some not so delicate balance was... changed. Turned on its head.   
She didn't want to ask. She really, _really_ didn't want to ask. "Did you feel that?"   
Rodger didn't want to admit that he _had_ felt something--and he didn't need to. It only took the slightest eye contact with her to confirm her suspicion that perhaps she wasn't alone in what had happened.   
It was an open question, John realized. But he answered in the only way he knew how when he was genuinely freaked out. "Were you grabbing my ass again?"   
She was even more glad for his return at that moment... not that she would have admitted it. "Not this time."   
"Shared hallucination?" Rodger let himself ask.   
"Wouldn't surprise me." Kyrie commented.   
"Just hungry." John spoke up, naturally lapsing everyone right back into the easy rhythm they had with one another.   
"Well, of course _that_." She agreed, grabbing the video then walking to the door to leave.

* * *

Here we go again. Check out the second chapter, as well. I decided to put two chapters up as an intro this time, because you'll understand the tone of the story more that way... or... something. Okay, maybe not.   
If you'd like to be e-mailed when I update, drop me a line with whatever story/stories/website you'd like me to inform you of. 


	2. Chapter 2

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?   
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah. 

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart   
Chapter 2   
By Orin Drake 

The journey to the train station was unusually... usual. The laughter, the jokes, that back and forth... it was all there and bright, as if nothing had happened. Always great to forget for a little while... though they all had to admit the biting feeling that it was just the beginning of something. Not that it mattered on the way to Trabia Garden, anyway. The ride was always beautiful, and the conversation never boring.   
"And why are we going to see Quistis?" John finally spoke up about the whole trip well after the train had started moving.   
Kyrie chuckled, amused. "You waited that long to ask?"   
"Wasn't important before now." He grinned.   
Well... fine. He had a point, she supposed. She presented him with the video she'd brought along, letting him inspect it himself.   
"'SeeD Party'." He repeated, curiously. He'd picked up what SeeDs were, over time... but nothing clicked yet.   
"It's just a few minutes worth... but everyone's there. Selphie, Quistis, Irvine, Zell... Cid, Edea... Squall... Rinoa..."   
He couldn't deny the curiosity of knowing what Kyrie's mother looked like, honestly. And seeing Quistis as a teenager...   
Rodger grinned as if picking up his thoughts entirely. "Hey, we're in the fancy car." He suggested, not entirely certain if Kyrie could take another viewing.   
She took a deep breath, pondering over it. Fancy, yes--but old, obviously. The car had been equipped with VCR and screen ages ago, years later having disk equipment added in an over-haul; but the older technology was never removed, still working perfectly.   
After a moment's thought, she couldn't see any reason _not_ to watch the video again. It's wasn't as if there were painful memories there... well, not... many, anyway. It was actually nice to see everyone having a good time. It was just... unexplainably bizarre. "Well, I guess everyone should have a chance to see Quistis."   
"Score." John kept under his breath.   
Rodger chuckled, kneeling to find the VCR slot. The machine instantly accepted the tape, letting the lights dim slowly as the screen folded down from the car's ceiling. As if a feature film were playing, there was a countdown from "3" before the tape actually began.   
John recognized Selphie, alright. When she was younger, she was pretty knockin'... but _Quistis_, on the other hand...   
--Was interrupted by Irvine. Rodger actually gave a little laugh at the other boy's expression, thinking the same thing: _Dammit._   
The rest of the tape was relatively enjoyable. Just people who knew each other, having some fun... mostly. All was going well until he laid eyes on who he was sure had to be the infamous Rinoa. John didn't recognize her because Kyrie overly resembled the woman--he knew it because of some gut-deep spark he felt when Rinoa appeared. It was something a little too eerily similar to the reflexive instincts he'd learned to hone in Hell, when demons were hunting him for a change.   
The other two felt similar reactions instantaneously. Something very... very _integral_ to... _everything_... had been felt. Experienced.   
Something was happening. Again.   
It was enough to keep them quiet for the rest of the train ride. 

Arriving at the Trabia station, the three of them stumbled off the train in a bit of a dizzy haze. Whether it was from what they'd just experienced or due to actually wondering about what the hell was going on, was generally ignored; the reason didn't matter. _Forgetting_ mattered. _Ignoring_ was what mattered--only for the moment. They couldn't very well worry Quistis, a woman with enough on her mind.   
They _could_ turn around and go right back home... but while Quistis would never know, Vincent would. Never was there a better security head for Esthar--not to mention his ridiculously astounding ways of keeping track of whoever he wished to. He could tell Kyrie what she bought, item for item, from a grocery store two months ago... and she knew that from experience. It wasn't that she wanted to keep anything from him, but... for the moment...   
Silent steps took them to Trabia Garden. John was still reeling from how similar the feeling he'd gotten from looking at a mere video of a woman long since dead had been to all of the wonderful bastard creatures in Hell. Rodger was spending most of his time trying not to think about the vast amounts of possibilities that he could never even come up with on his own, trying not to imagine their terror. Then Kyrie, of course... she was surprisingly numb to it all. Instinctually so, as if it were something she _had_ to distance herself from for the moment. For her own survival, maybe...   
What broke their concern to pieces was a most astounding thing. There, standing at the door to the Garden, was none other than their old Assistant Headmaster; better known as Ass-Istant Headmaster Evaan. He _saw_ them. He _recognized_ two of the three--but the third one looked like just as much trouble. There was not a damned thing he could do about it, either. The students were surrounding him, blocking the doors, weaving behind him. _There was no escape_.   
The mood suddenly went up ten places. Twenty. Possibly into the hundreds. John may not have understood the specifics, but he felt the shift in emotion... and attention. He knew enough to prepare to be amused.   
Kyrie lead the pack, walking up to the man just as sweet as she could be (and drawing some curious looks in the process). "Why _hello_ there, Mr. Evaan." She drawled slowly. Gently. The storm of deviousness underneath was palpable.   
The man paled even more. He seemed utterly convinced that they were going to kill him. Right there in the middle of the stream of students, they were going to murder him in cold blood and no one would be around to help him--   
Instead, she did something even better. She walked inside the doors with no more words, no more glances, her gentlemen following her in a similar fashion. She knew _that_, beyond all else, would terrify him. And he damn well deserved it.   
Well, that had graciously brightened the mood. All the times they'd ever visited, he'd never been anywhere in their sight. What glorious luck. It paid not to announce their visit to Quistis.   
"And that was..?" John inquired, not really caring. Seeing the guy's reaction had been plenty.   
"Our old Assistant Headmaster." Rodger explained, feeling such a... glorious lightness to his step. "He was an ass."   
"And apparently still is." Kyrie interjected.   
"Bravo, then." The half-demon's praise was... mostly heartfelt. 

Arriving at Quistis' office, the telltale sign that she was there was apparent: the door was closed. Wasn't the most subtle of signs, but it did what it was supposed to do.   
Much as Rodger would have liked to have gazed at the woman while picturing her as a teenager... "Maybe we should wander around outside for a bit."   
Kyrie caught John's surprised look, grinning. She supposed she understood her husband's hesitation... with Zell on the video and all. "If you'd prefer. I'm sure we won't be... too long. Then we may as well make a day of it and bother Vincent."   
"Sounds like a plan." her husband grinned. "We'll be hunting Assistant Headmasters."   
"Glorious." She agreed with a light kiss and a quick hug.   
"What about me?" John pretended to pout.   
She gave him a wink, smacked him hard and audibly on the ass, then pointed to the other end of the hall they'd just walked down. "You two have fun, hm?"   
"Yes, Ma'am." The helf-devil grinned brightly, trotting in the direction she'd sent him.   
Rodger remained only to shake his head and grin before following. It was almost a shame that they didn't really care who saw them do what they normally did together. Anymore.   
After both boys had disappeared back into the main part of the Garden, she clasped the tape in one suddenly clenched hand and knocked with the other. She had a distinct knock; hard, rhythmic, and constant. It let her aunt know who was there right away so she didn't have to pretend to be working.   
As expected, Quistis' door opened only seconds later. She greeted her niece with a smile, stepping aside and letting her in. "Where's your legion of followers?" she asked with mock astonishment, closing the door behind.   
It was the only case where two people could ever justify being called a legion, she was sure. "Outside... somewhere... doing Hyne knows what. Probably screwing with someone's head."   
The woman chuckled, taking a seat in her usual place and indicating that Kyrie do the same. "I'm surprised you care to miss out on that to see your dear old aunt."   
So... here it came. "Well, I... Irvine dropped off this video out of the blue this morning. And I watched it. I didn't know if you wanted to see it."   
She looked down at the cassette, unconsciously biting her bottom lip. The tape... the writing... She remembered that time... Selphie and her camera... and... and everyone...   
"Or I can leave while you watch..." Kyrie offered.   
"No. No, please... stay here." She assured. "Sit with me."   
She felt more at ease with her aunt's insistence to stay, somehow. She handed the video over and relaxed, watching as several buttons were pressed to find the right one that would get the panel to slide away from the television.   
"Alright." Quistis warned. "Here we go." When nothing happened for a number of seconds, she finally gave up and handed the remote control over.   
Kyrie grinned, taking charge. For some reason, electronics didn't work very well for her aunt... no matter. She pressed Play, and it worked. Wonder of wonders...   
Instructor Trepe found great joy in watching the insanely happy expression of an old friend. Selphie always was the "perk that never quit", after all. Seeing herself soon after, she really appreciated how much time had passed... wondered where the years had gone... then she laughed when she saw Irvine being the ham and the flirt, enjoying the sight of it again. "Is he still like that?"   
"He seems an awfully lot more reserved now, actually." She paused the tape to bring up a point, not wanting them to miss out on the rest. "You know, you ought to come with us sometime when we get together with Selphie. Just us without everybody else around behaving like lunatics."   
Quistis grinned appreciatively, remembering everyone having been there for Kyrie and Rodger's wedding. They didn't quite reach _lunatic_ status, but... it was a little crazy with the food and the alcohol... and the drinking games... She'd have thought everyone knew better than to accept her challenges. "I should, actually. I think I'd like that. Then maybe Irvine... eventually."   
She'd known Irvine could hold his liquor from plenty of old stories... but she doubted it could equal her aunt's supernatural might. "He's pretty well off now, y'know. Banking and all. We could convince him to take us all to an even more expensive place."   
This was still _Squall's_ child, right? "My aren't you wicked."   
"I learned from my dear old auntie." She assured, pressing the Play button again.   
To Cid... and then to Edea... To see the two of them together like they were back then... it was bittersweet. For so long they'd fought Edea as a sorceress, never remembering where they'd come from or who she was... and then to see her in the black dress they'd known her in as children, beside Cid who had collected them to fight part of the very thing he protected... it was confusing for everyone. Even if it was over, it was still... confusing.   
It was with an aching heart she gazed upon Zell... but, as he noticed the camera (or, rather, as her younger self whispered something about it to him), she couldn't help but laugh at the bread thrown, Irvine mumbling some curse regarding angry blondes under his breath into the microphone. Even after Ultimecia... they'd still been kids, for a while. It wasn't until the rest of the world elevated them beyond mere children that they found themselves... apart.   
The video ended with Rinoa and Squall... but Kyrie had closed her eyes at that point. She was angled away from Quistis so it wouldn't be noticed; she just couldn't bring herself to look again. If she did... she couldn't know what might happen.   
The elder woman sighed deeply when the tape ended. There were... a lot of mixed feelings, there. She supposed something like, _"So, that's Rinoa"_ would have been met with quite the emotional opposition... not that she cared to state the obvious. "Sometimes I think those were different lives we lead, back then. As completely different people."   
The sentiment hurt her niece's heart to hear. Even if she did see the truth in it. Unable to fathom a response at that point, she swallowed and remained silent.   
Quistis did continue, eventually. The conversation was mostly to herself... but open. "We had to be strong, for... for everyone. For Cid... for the world."   
"I can't imagine." Kyrie admitted. It was true; regardless of what she'd been through, she'd never had to face Ultimecia--_the_ Sorceress, the insane power-wielder who wanted to _destroy time_ altogether. Not that she hadn't been involved with insanity...   
Her aunt nodded, slightly. She saw the intentions behind the comment. "I think, deep down... we all knew that Squall was the strongest amongst us. But it wasn't fair." She looked away for a moment, trying to form her thoughts into words. "We all broke him trying to fix him. Maybe that was our real mistake... trying to 'fix' him at all."   
What an odd turn of subject... although, after Rinoa, almost anything was welcomed. "He appreciated it... in his own way."   
Quistis chuckled quietly. "I suppose so. I just worry that it was too much pressure."   
_Zell was pressure._ She wanted to say... but didn't. _Irvine and Selphie were pressure, when they decided to side with Zell. You and Elle and Laguna and Seifer... you were his saviors..._ "You shouldn't be that unfair to yourself." She settled for. "Everyone did what they sincerely thought was right... I hope." So it had seemed to her, anyway. Even if some people did fall away from her parents' lives... as long as they'd done so because they'd thought it the correct thing to do in the situation, she could have a little bit of understanding. Had it been out of hurt, out of some punishment... well, that would have been different. They could all be blamed for _something_... all trained to kill, frankly.   
Her aunt saw a look of pain pass through her niece's eyes, getting the gist of her thought process; ice cold eyes that she was quite familiar with, recognizing the emotion only in hindsight from her memories of Squall. She got up and walked around the desk, pulling the girl into her arms surprisingly easily. Perhaps the lack of resistance was from shock... which wouldn't have surprised her. "We were all killers, honey..." she admitted softly. "That's... what we were."   
It was an odd thing... Not that Quistis had never shown her affection, certainly... but never for... whatever reason was happening at that moment. Didn't matter. She returned the hug, knowing her aunt needed it as much as she apparently had. "You were _fighters_." Kyrie corrected. "Defenders for existence."   
She sighed and smiled a little as she pulled away, glad for those words. It was a more eloquent way of putting certain things that Zell used to say... before... things happened. "Such misfits." She simplified jokingly.   
"But you belonged together." Her niece reminded her. She hadn't needed to watch the video to know that. For a brief period of time... they were all they had to rely on. And back then, it was in perfect trust.   
It was just like Kyrie's little family unit, wasn't it? All stumbling upon one another along the way... Well, a little different. Which reminded her. "Do you need more condoms yet?"   
She chuckled. "I think I can afford to buy my own truckload..."   
"But you don't know where to get them wholesale." The woman teased.   
...Astounding. "I don't even want to know."   
The instructor smiled, shaking her head. "Thank you for bringing that video. And did you need lube with that?"   
At _that_, Kyrie covered her face in her hands and fought the urge to laugh and curl into a ball and die at the same time. "_Quis-tis_."   
The woman laughed quite heartily at the reaction. "Didn't expect that one, did you?"   
"Hyne, Quisty." She replied, wiping tears of laughter (or so it appeared) from her eyes. "Did _anyone_ know you were so damn _unladylike_?"   
"Only the right people." She winked. "Am I to assume your legion awaits somewhere outside, making all sorts of trouble?"   
"Don't even bother to assume." Kyrie assured, grinning. "Guess I better round them up before someone dies... which reminds me, we saw Mr. Ass-Istant Headmaster at the door."   
Quistis' mouth dropped open. "You're kidding. He must have had a heart attack."   
"Sure hope so." She didn't bother hiding her animosity. 

They'd been in the cafeteria, scoping out the girls. Young girls. New, fresh, _green_ girls who didn't know who they were or who they were attached to. It was... enjoyable.   
It was... prompting John to wonder. "This... 'arrangement' you've got... it's both ways, right?"   
Rodger grinned at his "subtlety". "Yup."   
Alright, interesting... "Then why haven't you brought home another girl?"   
The brunette leaned in, keeping his voice low. "You can't tell her this. I mean, at all."   
John's award-winning grin shone brightly. "Understood."   
"Well, besides the fact that no other chick has been able to look me in the eye while she was in the same room... she's... everything." He admitted with no shyness. There was no grand, romantic, breathy admission, either--just plan and simple truth for what it was. "All I ever wanted, even when I didn't know I wanted it. Definitely all I need. And now that I know I can have anything else I want... I find I don't want it quite as much." He grinned back. "Not that I wouldn't take advantage if something sweet came along... What about you?" he turned the table suddenly. Like for like, after all... John had taught him that. "All that time away can't really be in Hell, can it?"   
The half-devil very nearly--right on the verge, so close he could feel it coming--_blushed_. He managed to avoid it with a plethora of other thoughts suppressing the response, but... it was too close. "Actually, uh..."   
Rodger's joking expression turned into a wry smile. "You love her, huh?"   
He seemed quite taken aback by his question--if not shocked. Scared. Numb. For once, totally without response.   
The brunette crossed his arms and chuckled. "It's okay. I'm not jealously obsessive. I mean... we've known each other long enough, here."   
"Y-yeah... I know that, but..." he swallowed, not quite knowing where to go from there. "I mean... I haven't... I've never really..." For someone who hunted the very demons in the core of Hell, he seemed quite flustered. "This is a first, and... well..."   
_Aaaaahhh._ Poor boy was not only still a little nervous about their situation... but he'd never been so full-blown smitten before. Hell, maybe more by the reaction... Yeah, he could understand that. Instead of calling the half-devil out and making him even more flustered, he decided upon a much more interesting topic of conversation. "Well, then. You'll have to help me arrange a decent birthday present for her."   
John had never been so glad for a change in conversation--although... Much as _every molecule of his being_, as much as _every last spark of his soul_ wanted to flow with that new line of discussion... something had to be clear. Goddammit, he'd never counted on his fucking _heart_ turning against him. "You have to know, though..."   
Rodger needed only to nod. It remained unspoken because it didn't _need_ to be expressed in words. John was not his competition, they both understood that. Kyrie was not the kind to compare in those ways, either; she seemed to be of the understanding that love and lust could be experienced in a million different ways, none detracting from any of the others. They'd never literally have a three-way marriage, but that mattered only in legal titles. The half-devil was really the only other guy Rodger had felt that comfortable around. It was also true of John; hell, he was a little sexual deviant regardless, but he never felt pressured or threatened in the Leonhart/Kinneas house. It was always... good. Perfect. With plenty of exciting "extras".   
"Now, about her birthday." John sat back, feeling completely at ease again. So long as they all knew what needed to be understood... all was well.   
The brunette gave a quick look to the room to make sure there were no "spies". "I was thinking something a lot cooler than a stripper inside a cake. I just don't know _what_."   
"There's not much cooler than that." The other boy teased.   
Rodger tried to force his grin into a glare, but it was hard. Guy really _was_ a smartass. Just as he opened his mouth to suggest ideas, he caught a glimpse of Quistis approaching from the far wall... a very out of breath-looking Kyrie behind her. Either she'd been sprinting, or laughing really hard. He suspected the latter. "Ssh. We've got trouble."   
"Acknowledged." John played along. The two of them waited until the "ladies" could definitely be seen, then stood as if they were gentlemen.   
Quistis noticed their odd change in behavior, a good-natured smirk on her lips. "Hello Rodger, John."   
"He-llo, Quisty." The brunette blinked rapidly in a mock innocence.   
"Hi." The half-demon greeted, knowingly keeping a softness to his voice and a glitter in his eye.   
Luckily, Quistis was a bit smarter than that. "So you've both seen the video, too?"   
John's teeth seemed to have become... sharper, all of a sudden. It gave Kyrie quite the amused expression, anyway. She interrupted a plethora of dirty possibilities by speaking for them. "They saw."   
"Not that you aren't looking particularly lovely this afternoon, Instructor Trepe." Rodger tried his luck.   
"Your fault is your father." The woman quipped.   
Rodger feigned a pout, but his wife just about fell over with laughter. She was already pleasantly giggly with her aunt's comments earlier. It was just too hard to hold in.   
"Been sharin' the rum?" John teased.   
"Sssshhh." Quistis winked. "While it's good to see you all, I'm sure you've got better things to do." She exchanged the mildest of looks with Rodger--in on the birthday plottings as well (the look having said something along the lines of, _"Give me a call at your earliest convenience"_). It was only a matter of luck that Kyrie was in the process of wiping tears of laughter from her eyes yet again, hopefully not seeing a thing. "Now, off with all of you. Enjoy the rest of your day."   
"You're _kicking us out_ to get _work_ done?" her niece feigned a great deal of personal pain, finally having composed herself.   
"Deal with it, kiddo." Her aunt joked. "But I do appreciate it. Feel free to come back... at some point."   
Kyrie grinned. "Will do, Quisty." With a hug and a series of waves (especially from the boys), they left... with no further signs of the poor Assistant Headmaster. What a shame. 

Walking into the train station, Rodger was hit with the idea that they'd actually have to decide where to go next. While he didn't mind venturing into Esthar... there were concerns. "You sure we should go see Vincent... now?"   
Kyrie took a very deep breath, still uncertain of the issue herself. He was asking if she wanted to involve the man in the mystery currently surrounding them. Yes, of course, on one hand... but on the other, he'd been burdened quite enough.   
John... still got the shivers about that guy, sometimes. He'd learned that the freaky man was pretty much considered family, though. Like Cloud, only... so much scarier. He really hadn't a clue as to how Kyrie had gotten so close to either of them... or how, "rumor had it", she and Vincent had... well. In _their_ house.   
--Stricken with the idea he considered the house partially his own, he didn't hear the girl's question. He _did_, however, feel her elbow. "Mm?"   
"I asked what you thought." She repeated. "About heading to Esthar."   
He shook his head, focus back in his hands. "I don't understand enough about it to worry... yet. I get the feeling that I will."   
"Helpful." She joked, pausing to think for a moment. "We can always just... drop in, I suppose. Fun to be annoyances."   
Rodger knew the truth behind that sentiment. She was going to act completely normal and see if Vincent noticed anything was off. It was their dance--if he called her out on it, she'd talk to him. If not, she'd assume all was "well" and they'd deal with it on their own.   
His eyes met John's searing blue... but found only a shrug on his shoulders. Hey, he was as worried as anyone... but he knew a hell of a lot better than to try and convince Kyrie not to follow her instincts, wherever they may lead. The two of them had her back, just in case. 

It turned out to be strangely one of the emptiest days in Esthar by the way things at Esthar Station had gone. Almost no one was there; the rush and the bustle nearly didn't exist, making it both extremely pleasant and very eerie. Still, not having to knock people out of the way or plow through crowds during the noon rush was a nice thing.   
Even the usual guards along the walk to the estate were thinned out a bit. Kyrie was quite sure that she'd heard a reason for it at some point in time... but it escaped her, obviously not having been all that important. No matter--it made the whole idea of visiting that much more pleasant. _Especially_ when they had the opportunity to sneak up on Vincent from behind in the hallway...   
He turned. Everyone paused. John, Rodger, Vincent and Kyrie, all having stopped dead in their tracks as if having seen their own ghost hovering in front of their living selves.   
It was his claw, all of a sudden--it was like it'd been when she'd seen Rinoa. Only, this time, all she could think of was that odd dream she'd had the night when they'd...   
_It wasn't a dream._ Came instantly to her mind. And, unfortunately enough... she couldn't deny it.   
It was a shared reaction. For _all_ of them. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?   
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah. 

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart   
Chapter 3   
By Orin Drake 

Everything she'd experienced during her strange journey to Traverse Town rushed her, choked her--all at once, she remembered _everything_. Waking up, being told her world was gone, the memories of everyone she'd made physical contact with... it was all there, as clearly as if it had just happened.   
Vincent saw an odd spark to her eyes at the very breathing _instant_ the world crushed against him, against _them_. Bigger than her, than them; that much was immediately clear. Bigger than what he'd known before.   
And, yet... it only lasted that blink, that barely a shard of a second before it died down like a nightmare after being awoken. _That_ was certainly the strangest thing about the incident, how easily it was left in the background. _There_, remembered, experienced... but suddenly not with any of the importance it initially felt necessary. In fact, for once... it felt like it ought to be ignored in favor of _anything_ else.   
To fight the urge to move on... Vincent wasn't certain. Neither was anyone else, by the look of it.   
--All but Kyrie. Of course... it must be hers. Not of blame, but of... explanation. She looked less than unsure; she seemed quite desperate to ignore the event, in fact.   
_Not that she will_, Vincent knew. The look exchanged was enough--he was calling her out, alright. Into their _own_ open; in private. He turned to the boys as casually as usual, voice holding all of the hard-fought seriousness the situation so rarely deserved. "I'm certain you two can find some havoc to wreak. That won't get you arrested, preferably."   
Ouch. So soon... but Rodger kept his humor. He had to. "No promises, Vincent."   
John followed his lead, if only to give Kyrie a moment to regain herself. "What, you can't get us out of jail?"   
The raven-haired man crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "It's not a matter of _can_, Mr. Sparda."   
Well... that got them to rush off quickly enough. The two left behind walked in silence to Vincent's office. Far too familiar... but comforting in that respect, as well.   
Door locked and security devices enabled, Vincent turned to see the girl already sitting--on his desk. No pretense, no need to wait. It seemed she'd come with the purpose of discussion... so he would discuss immediately. He knew. It wasn't hard to guess, but... somehow he _knew_. "That night, correct? The 'possible dream'?"   
"How'd ya know?" she sighed, though all sarcasm seemed lost the moment her mouth was open. She shook her head, her entire manner changing. Suddenly she was truly _herself_ again; confident, severe, blunt and full of good humor. There was no _reason_ to be anything else, dammit. She refused to let the burdens of the world beat her down again. "This isn't... meant to be your problem, Vincent. I've really got to keep it away from you."   
He raised an eyebrow at that. Well, he almost felt... _offended_ in a way, he supposed... but not strongly. Not _really_--he understood better than that. He just... wanted to offer. To let her know. With a nod, he responded, "Should you need anything."   
She was immensely glad of how he handled the whole thing. Not that he'd needed to tell her, really... "It's appreciated."   
He did need to get one thing clarified, however. "Would Cloud happen to be involved in... this?" He certainly remembered her question, months ago... as to whether he and Cloud had been at one another's throats at one point.   
With a deep breath, she took a moment to work out the answer. "I don't know for sure. But he might."   
He gave one, terse nod. There was worry behind it... but there was appreciation, too. Trying to handle it herself would be dangerous... but trying to find the correct sources to gather information from, then taking the responsibility upon herself... it was a decent thing. "Perhaps you should go see him and find out."   
She nodded, excusing herself. At the door, she tossed out an almost too-casual, "Thanks."   
He inclined his head slightly, silent. There was no need... not to remind her, not to offer her any more. She knew. That was enough. 

She made quick work of finding Rodger and John, doing what they could to relieve Kiros of stress... or help to give him more. Either way, they were hanging around the man.   
Kyrie grinned at the look the elder man had shot her. If only she were capable of sympathy... "Hey you two. I'm gonna go see Cloud..."   
"We'll stay here." Her husband responded. While it was out of knowing that she needed some time to talk to him herself... there were also more pressing matters at hand.   
"Yeah." John agreed. "And it's got nothing to do with your birthday."   
The half-devil got a barely joking glare from the brunette... to which he stuck out his tongue. Kyrie was enjoying the exchange while Kiros shook his head, mumbling to himself something about hopeless boys or whatnot.   
She gave them a wave, waiting to see how things would turn out... likely from security tapes. "I'll catch you later, then." 

She wandered down the private hallways and the hidden elevator, darting across to Cloud's shop the instant she saw it empty. Of all but the blonde himself, of course.   
She was somewhat pleased that Mako eyes meeting her own didn't cause another stomach-churning "shift" as had happened with Vincent moments before... though what sense that made, she couldn't really find the time to question at that moment. Maybe he hadn't felt it because they hadn't been... uh, "close" in a "certain special way". The thought alone made her smile back at him--trying to keep the deviousness out of the expression.   
"Busy?" she inquired, innocently enough.   
Such a question, out of the blue, meant plotting was about to happen. He indicated she wait for a moment as he pulled the metal grates down and turned off the front lights, then met her again in the back of the store. "Nope." He responded, ready to be amused.   
She really, really wished she could offer him that much at the moment... but there was a very important matter to discuss. Something she'd seen through the memories of the other Cloud that were just so... _important_, so _focused_, that she didn't think it could have possibly existed only in the other world... Whether or not it had anything to do with the weird things starting to happen... she could only hope it held some sort of explanation. "Hey... Cloud?"   
An eyebrow rose at her sudden change in tone. It was unfamiliar in its carefulness, its timid curiosity. He almost felt as if he should be in a defensive pose. "Yes?"   
Part of her warned her not to ask... after all, it was a question that came from nowhere, as far as he would be concerned. Not to mention, it probably wasn't any of her business... but... "Who... was Zack?"   
He was utterly taken aback by her question. His silence spanned almost a full minute, just trying to understand where the hell that had come from. When he did finally respond, it was very quiet. "I don't really want to talk about him."   
Well. Damn. She was hoping to have one question answered, anyway... but she respected his past being left where it was. If that was the way he wanted, she wouldn't press. She couldn't bear to rope him into this if he played no part...   
He was surprised to find himself not as entirely willing to forget the conversation. "Why do you ask?"   
_I wonder if your memories of him were the same as the other Cloud's, in that awful world... I wonder if you thought about him the same way... I wonder if you fear that you never told him how good of a friend he was until it was too late for him to hear you... I want to know if you regret... I want to know if it ever eats away at you... if it hurts, like Sephiroth... _"I had a dream, I think." Was all she said.   
He had been accused of missing... a great deal of detail, in his time. He couldn't quite ignore any of this. "It was more than that."   
"Can't prove it." She joked lightly.   
He swallowed at the ease in which she could shut down, put on a perfectly solid front of being okay, and move on. It was... learned behavior, he knew that. Learned for the reactions of others... from not wanting to dig, to hurt, to push unwillingly. Even if he answered her... even if he let her in... He would _not_ dump his life onto her as he'd seen everyone else do. Maybe she didn't mind... perhaps by some miracle, she didn't mind so much weight on her shoulders... but he wouldn't risk it. The girl had her own concerns, obviously. He knew what it was like to be expected to save everyone, to cure all ills... he didn't want her in that position. Ever.   
Thing was, he remembered her as a little girl. Remembered unconscious smiles and innocent laughter... before she knew people were looking at her. He remembered her parent's protection being quiet, almost hidden... but he remembered. And that night when he'd climbed through the inn window to find her tied up next to Sephiroth, of all fucking things... She'd proven stronger than he had ever imagined, certainly... but she needed her chance to be... well, not _weak_, but... normal.   
Though... he had no reason not to answer, really. It wasn't as if he felt he needed to close that part of his life off, anymore. He'd come to accept it all so many years ago... centuries... Didn't make it any less painful, but knowing what she'd been through... opening some old wounds seemed like the least he could do for her.   
"I hated him for a very long time." He admitted, surprised that there was no more bitterness there. "He stopped me from getting into SOLDIER..." he blinked as old memories found him again, playing out behind his words. "I didn't know that, then. Had no idea he did it to keep me... safe." He shook his head, shedding the years of lies and pain. "He was my best friend, once. Saved my life. Died to save me, actually."   
Well... had she known that, she wouldn't have asked. She didn't think the worlds had been that similar...   
He hadn't _meant_ to say that last sentence out loud. He was having a Laguna moment; covering his mouth and wondering why the hell he'd spoken in the first place.   
The delayed reaction made Kyrie laugh. She understood, actually. It wasn't as if she wasn't... prepared for the possibility, anyway. The subject change was absolutely natural. "Y'know... we haven't really had a conversation alone together in a long time. And certainly not face to face."   
Cloud actually found himself incredibly grateful for her ability to shift subjects. If she knew what he'd meant... that's all that mattered. "That's because of your devoted followers." He teased. "Where are they, anyway?"   
"Insisting they stayed behind for a reason that has nothing to do with my birthday." She shrugged. "Don't know why the hell it's such a big deal this year."   
He didn't say it. Obviously he knew it, but he didn't say it. The world was planning a bit of a celebration... twenty-five years since Ultimecia was defeated. On the very day (albeit a year earlier) of Kyrie's birth. The chances were too creepy. Rodger had thought it might be a nice idea if Kyrie were assured a nice day of celebration for herself, not having to deal with some of the rest of the world and their misunderstandings of what had taken place. He was inclined to... help.   
His silence was enough to alert her to the idea that he did, in fact, know _something_ about this birthday thing... but she hid that thought completely. It was logged away, however... just in case she could use it in the immediate future.   
Strangely enough, that somehow steered her toward another thought... of what she knew and didn't know. After the answer about Zack and all... well. It was just that... she wondered. After recalling those memories of the other world, and then... knowing what she'd seen through Sephiroth's eyes not all that long ago...   
Something about the _kind_ of silence she kept around her alerted him to her thought process. Thoughts of the former general _always_ had an _extremely_ specific feel to them. It still gave him chills, every now and again... "I know what you want to ask."   
Caught. _Uh-oh._ "Do you?"   
He smirked at her noncommittal question. "You... being in... Sephiroth's head. You must have seen something. Vincent said... he knew you'd seen some memories..."   
She turned her eyes away for a moment, wondering what he wanted from her. A question? A nod? An admission, likely... she owed him that much. "Only one flash. Down in a... basement room, it looked like. A kiss, was all."   
It was a little blush. Barely there at all, in fact. It wasn't as if he assumed he had anything to hide from her... or even that she may not have picked up on it long before. It was just... one of those foolish things in the past. When he'd been so small... so weak, so... worthless. "Ah."   
His response amused her. Maybe there had been more there, somewhere... but that was nothing to press. She knew certain parts of the psychopath had a thing akin to affection for the blonde warrior... though beyond that, she'd understood very little.   
"Was he... himself, in the end?" It seemed to Cloud a question that _needed_ asking as much as it did answering. He... had to know. In those last moments... before Sephiroth released her back into the Lifestream, back to be returned to her body... He remembered long ago, when he'd thought he'd finally killed the man... how it was almost accepted with open arms...   
She swallowed so her throat wouldn't close up. Held close, held secretly... the very little of the man underneath the madness that she knew, had been mourned for. Only a little... only a moment's thought once in a while, but... "I think so. I really believe so."   
He nodded, heart set more at ease than it had been for a long time. "Zack would have liked to have known that."   
"You aren't so happy about it?" she pressed so lightly that it was almost as if she hadn't at all.   
Almost. He sighed quietly... finding no reason to keep it to himself. He'd known her. They'd chatted quite a lot when he was sealed up in space... and then they did spend a lot of time together. But never so... personal. So distinctly... secretive. So deep in his life. Somehow, though... he knew that was what she was more than seeking; it was what she _needed_. "I am. But... I was never... chosen."   
And then it clicked. Zack and Sephiroth... but Cloud was on the outside to both of them...   
"It wasn't... quite like that." He responded merely to her expression. "Well... it was, in a way, but... I don't really like admitting it." It wasn't that they rejected him. Not really. He had a place in each of their lives, truly... but not in their life _together_, as he was. Aeris, by contrast, was... different, somehow... outside of their daily life and therefore not quite the same.   
He hadn't know it, then... but if he'd just been honest about his love rather than sloughing it off as crushes and affections, he knew he'd have been able to become more to them both; their third, as Kyrie had found hers. That... was not easy knowledge to carry.   
She smiled slightly at his honesty, unwilling to say a single word. She could not interrupt what may be coming her way...   
"I was... so weak, then..." he sighed, turning away.   
Cloud? Weak? "Kind of hard to believe."   
He made a scoffing sound, glad for her show of support, but... "Yeah. Sure."   
"I actually meant that." She grinned a little, hopping up on the half-empty display table to sit. "I remember fighting beside you, y'know." She remembered that godawful night, expected to sleep in the same bed with that silver-haired bastard... Cloud was strong, then. Take-charge. Knowing. Protective.   
"Thanks." He murmured, quietly. After a moment's quiet reflection, he took a seat next to her. He realized he was speaking mostly to himself, but these things needed to be said. "Zack was so... careless. --Not in a bad way, just... not a man with a single worry. Even during the experiments... he was pretty amazing. Saved my ass a number of times. Never complained... always taking care of me... and Seph..."   
The nickname both tore at her heart and made her feel almost... at peace. She didn't want to ask. Part of her already knew of his (and Zack's, apparently) attraction to Sephiroth. The man was layered with cold indifference hiding child-like awe... pain... fear. So much fear. Had Jenova not been so deep inside of him... The insanity could easily have passed if it had happened at all. Things most assuredly would have been different.   
That was what Cloud had always hated: it was never _Sephiroth's_ fault. What he became... was not at all what he should have been. He was merely a living experiment from the moment of his conception... and while there had been a few in his life that had treated him kindly, most would never be able to see him as anything except "beyond human". It caused a lot of fear, hatred, and false reverence--none of which allowed him to get close to anyone... except Zack.   
"It wasn't even... Jenova, really." He found himself thinking out loud. "I mean, that didn't help. That was a... problem." He simplified with a little smile, seeing Kyrie follow his line of thought completely. "But... Hojo was to blame for... everything." A weak, wretched, horrible little man with a hunch had caused the world to end. Literally and figuratively. "So much was lost because of _him_..."   
The mild shaking in his voice made her ache. "Oh, you're not in for all this 'feelings' stuff." She teased softly, trying to put an end to his pain. Just for a bit, only for a while...   
It seemed more like a challenge to him... He smiled warmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders without thinking. It was like a protective wing to shield her... though why he'd come up with that image, he'd never understand. She didn't _need_... "shielding", per se... A little comfort. A moment's rest. Same as he needed, just then.   
She enjoyed it, actually. For a girl that never could understand physical affection, she'd sure learned differently. The thought made her try very hard not to cough with amusement. Something else did come to mind, though, quite suddenly. "Would you spar with me sometime?"   
He blinked. A surprising question, to say the least. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea..."   
"Afraid I'll kick your ass, right?"   
He grinned darkly at her cockiness, pulling away. Finally, he _did_ know his own power... and if she meant to test it, even for the matter of a game, well... He shook the idea from his head. "I've got a few centuries on you..."   
_Why_ she suddenly wanted to spar with _him_ so badly, she didn't know. She knew it felt right, though. Like she needed to learn _something_ from it... even though she knew he must be a million times better than herself. "Look... we can stop the first time I get knocked down, okay?"   
His eyes searched hers, his manner hesitant. He sighed in defeat, giving into her request as he stood to leave... but there was just one more thing. "Not that I think I _should_ ask... or that I even really want the answer, maybe... but what brings all of this up?"   
She owed him that much, alright. "A dream... maybe."   
Simplicity cast a definitive picture. She didn't want to elaborate... and he didn't need for her to. At a loss for words, what wound up falling out of his mouth was, "Good luck with that."   
She grinned more at the sentiment than the puzzled look on his face when he realized what he'd just said. "Thanks, Cloud."   
At least she didn't seem... upset. "No problem, Ky."   
Never a dull moment. "Can we spar now?" 


	4. Chapter 4

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?   
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah. 

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart   
Chapter 4   
By Orin Drake 

The first matter to take care of: acquiring some decent swords to spar with. Everything in the miniature arena in the palace was kind of... well... cheap. Or old. Or not fit to use, frankly. But Kyrie knew where to get better weapons.   
Cloud followed her down familiar hallways until she met up with a blur in the shape of a human... At least, that's what it seemed like.   
"Hey, Kiros." She managed to catch him on the way by. "Got some sparring swords?"   
He raised an eyebrow as he stopped. "Yes. But I doubt you want those."   
She beamed at his unique way of calling her out. "Well... whatever you have is fine."   
The dark-skinned man took a look at the two of them, standing there... and did what he could to hold in a sigh. They were just looking to get themselves into trouble. Not that that was any surprise. He then glanced behind himself, seeing the two boys having found him--and following. He took advantage of the situation, slipping away and back to his office.   
"I knew it was coming to this..." Rodger joked, having heard his wife's request, "But not quite so soon."   
She greeted him with a soft smirk. "Just a little spar, love."   
He knew better, of course. She _never_ had a "little spar", first off... but certainly never with Cloud, before. She needed something... to search for something more than she'd gotten with conversation...   
"Can we watch?" John asked with a great big shit-eating grin, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall to receive roughly what he knew to be the answer.   
"You haven't earned the right." She returned.   
He pretended to pout as Rodger grinned, responding. "We'll wait here. Don't get too hurt."   
"Love that lack of confidence." She scoffed, giving them a wave before stalking Kiros to his office.   
Cloud gave the boys a shrug and followed after. Hell, he didn't know exactly what was going on... but it couldn't be that bad. Hopefully. Anything to make the day more interesting.   
Technically, Kiros had his own office. Most of the time, however, it was Laguna's office that was considered his base of operations. And all the time Kyrie had been wandering through the estate... she didn't think she ever saw _Kiros'_ office. It was incredibly nice. Well furnished, spotless without being sterile. Smelled good, too.   
Kiros himself was busy in the corner, pulling open what looked to be an old, elaborately decorated chest. Despite the sheer amount of odds and ends the chest contained, he easily found what he was after.   
Kyrie was quite amazed. Two very beautiful, exquisitely hand-made swords of clear quality graced the man's delicate-looking hands. He seemed the only one with any right to hold them, actually. "Wow. These are beautiful."   
He nodded, placing each sword and their accompanying harnesses on the table. "I've had these since the day I became a soldier, when I left home. They were bought for me in celebration."   
His tone wasn't exactly... appreciative, though. She returned the favor on calling him out. "And who would buy you swords in celebration of you going off to fight?"   
"My father." His face darkened all of a sudden. "He was an asshole."   
There was a round of silence... and then appreciative chuckles. Not like anyone Kyrie knew couldn't relate to a point, after all.   
Kiros let an appreciative grin trace his features. "Feel free to treat them with all the delicate essence of your usual tools, Kyrie."   
She wasn't... entirely sure if he'd meant that... "So I can beat the shit out of them, right?"   
"Have at it, my dear." He nodded. 

On the way to the arena, Cloud couldn't quite take it anymore. "So... is he, like... your step-grandfather?"   
That made both of them break into laughter. She thought about it for a bit, though. "Technically, I'm not sure if we're all supposed to know."   
He found that... surprising. "How do you mean?"   
She shrugged. "There's never been an announcement. Not that there needs to be, but... well. It's not spoken of. At all. Not even Vincent reveals how many times he's walked in on them. But I know he has."   
The blonde found himself unable to stop that widening grin. "And how's that?"   
"Because when I tease him about it, he doesn't say a word." She responded, trying not to be as amused as she really was.   
Another question was most assuredly waiting... but it was forgotten as they'd reached the arena. It was really more like an in-doors battle circle, but... it was still pretty nice. Nothing like Garden's, of course... but having training grounds in the Presidential Estate may have been a bad idea. Especially since the People for Prevention of Cruelty to Monsters had started up.   
Kyrie walked in first--almost strutting. Hell, she felt cocky. She was also well aware that half of battle was a mind game, anyway. Some stretching, some re-adjusting of the harness that kept Kiros' sword on her back...   
And Cloud simply couldn't help but notice. She was just _asking_ to be knocked down. In the old days, he'd have done it--with malice. After time, after knowing her... he would play just as easily. "You ready?"   
A soft crack of her neck later, she took a deep breath... and prepared herself. "Definitely."   
He noted the seriousness of her face... but the playful light in her eyes. She was getting a little too good at that. "You sure?" he continued to tease.   
That was when her eyes hid behind practiced coldness. "Bring it on, Strife."   
He didn't... _entirely_ want to... really. Not... _completely_, but... someone had to take care of that sudden bout of over-cockiness. Not that it was unhealthy... or even unusual for her... but she did need to know to be more on her guard than she seemed.   
She found herself very quickly staring... upward. Without really knowing how she got into that position. Come to think of it, her head and back hurt a little bit... and seemed to be against something hard...   
He quickly reached out for her hand, trying not to make his grin... too obvious. No hard feelings, after all. "First fall. It's over."   
She stared up at him with wide eyes--for a split second before her faculties kicked in again. "_Second_ fall. I _meant_ second fall." She could admit that she may have approached the whole thing a little bit too arrogantly... just not out loud.   
Cloud's Mako eyes glittered as he smirked, hand still out for her. "I could seriously hurt you next time."   
She grinned. It was a very, very slow, very quiet sort of expression... that sent equally slow chills through whoever fell in its path. He was good, no doubt. And he was stronger than she was, yeah... but how dirty did he fight, she wondered... "Come and get it, Blondie." She winked--right before kicking herself up from the ground and rolling backward.   
Well, if _that_ was how she wanted to play... He had to admit, it was kind of exciting. He hadn't had spirited competition for a long damn time. Not of the friendly variety, anyway. He drew the sword and followed her.   
Up until that point, her sword had stayed on her back. Seeing as how his was suddenly in an arc toward her chest, however--she darted backward, pulling the sword and blocking expertly. Blow deflected, she skipped back a few more steps and to the side, out of the way.   
He was somewhat anticipating the move, using his momentum to spin and try to make contact with her blade again, but-- Damn. She was faster than he'd expected. She was completely gone before he'd had the chance to force her to block, resting on the other side of the arena.   
Her speed was her saving grace--for the first few minutes. She did everything she could to dart, roll or otherwise move out of the way before she'd had to deflect his blows. It would help to wear him down (and she very much hoped he was out of practice), knowing by sheer comparison of muscle size that he could hold out a hell of a lot longer. And not that he hit hard when their swords did meet... but she also knew it was only a matter of time before their adrenaline got the better of them, punching up those muscles of his to their full extent.   
Unfortunately, there was coming a time when she was losing her speed just enough for the deflections to come more often. Her arms were beginning to remind her with very dull pains running up them as the blows came a little harder, a little more forceful. She saw bright Mako eyes gleaming deviously as her opponent suddenly swept upward with his blade harshly--and measured.   
The way he'd angled himself and the blow, she couldn't deflect it easily. The way her arms were forced before her, she could dart neither left nor right unless she wanted to risk quite the unpleasantly deep gash. She couldn't very well dart backward, the way he had begun leaning against her... and damned if she could hold up to that for long. So... she used her imagination. Backing up a step, she _threw_ her body underneath his, using his momentum and angle to help shove her through his legs as she used her own sword as a fulcrum to easily let her slide underneath and slightly away from him on her back--not that she felt herself safe, kicking off the floor and away immediately after.   
"Not bad!" he laughed with the sheer delight of a spirited opponent. "Better use your legs more effectively next time, though."   
"I'm not wearing a skirt for you, Cloud." She joked, barely showing how out of breath she felt. Damn.   
He caught it--but didn't indicate that he had. Always having something more up your sleeve was important for battle, of course. "Wider stance, back a little further." To illustrate, he brought his sword down heavily on hers as she made to block.   
She was rather forced to take his advice seriously, or risk getting knocked backward. Not the best way to end a sparring match. She managed, however, to think quickly--pulling her sword to the side, she made the focal point of his pressure fall around and past her body, allowing her to dart around him in a circle. If he hadn't been so fast himself, she just may have gotten a nice chunk cut out of him from behind.   
Really, he was impressed... but she was not practiced enough. He was quite glad that the swords had a single edge to them; using his other hand near the end of the blade, he made a very swift, very hard upward-thrust that she couldn't have done anything more than blocked--and suffered for it.   
Again she found herself on her back, but that time she had her sword in both hands. Blocking for her pride. Blocking for her _life_, in any other situation. He was pressing... awfully hard, there...   
"What was that?" he asked smugly, hearing the hiss she tried to keep silent. "You surrender?"   
_Oh... dammit._ "I... do... not."   
But they both knew it. It was obvious that she was not winning, to put it all very blandly. There was no way she could hold up under that kind of pressure. Her arms quivered as he pressed down harder, measured force assuring him that he wouldn't accidentally do... too much damage.   
"Cloud..." she gasped, doing her damnedest to hold up for just a few more seconds. "I'm sorry about this..."   
His eyes flew open. Grip on the sword wavered. The steel toe of her boot had found the inside of his knee--and was stroking it _extremely_ lightly. He was down even before the concept of **_ticklish_** truly hit him. And she had disarmed him, switching their positions entirely.   
Head at last cleared, he stared up at her for a number of seconds. "That was extremely unfair, you know."   
"I know." She grinned, planting her feet solidly to pull him back up. It wasn't that she didn't know he'd planned on flipping her over and down; in fact, she was ready for it. She just wasn't ready for the apparently split-second decision on his part to roll on top of her so she _couldn't_ get away and dig directly for her ribs.   
She made quite the interesting series of sounds as she tried to get away. Dammit, how'd he know! She wasn't so ticklish as to be rendered utterly helpless, but he was _not_ going to release her without proper payback.   
"Is that really appropriate in battle?" they heard distantly. Only Vincent could have pulled off that sort of uninterested tone... while being extremely interested.   
Cloud took a moment to answer; he was busy trying to make his new adversary squirm even more. "Not at all, no."   
Kyrie took his pause as a good sign to strike--with a quick breath, she managed to sit up fast enough to knock the blonde backward, just able to make another grab for the inside of his knee with her much-more-dexterous-than-boots fingers. He actually squeaked at her touch, and it was far too enticing not to torture the living shit out of him.   
"He's been known to punch." Vincent warned, slowly walking closer with an air of exasperated parent.   
"And I've been known to bite." She grinned over her shoulder, continuing her assault for several more seconds.   
"Cruel and unusual." The raven-haired man simplified, staring down at a panting, broken Cloud Strife. He tried not to show his thought process in his facial expression... If only Sephiroth had known his true weakness...   
"Can it," the blonde gasped, reading the vicious thought in the man's eyes, "Vincent."   
Somewhat fully satisfied, Kyrie emerged from the mess unharmed... for the moment. "You gave me no choice but to fight dirty."   
"That's a lie." Cloud semi-accused... just glad to be away from the tickling.   
"It's really a matter of perception." She threw back jokingly, helping him to stand.   
Blue eyes met Vincent's smirking red ones. "She's been around you far too much."   
Well, that was true. "You wish to take over? Be my guest."   
"Humph." Was her response. "Given away so easily."   
Vincent only shrugged--earning him a laugh from an old friend and a largely apparent middle finger from the younger.   
Her general attitude made Cloud wonder, out loud. "Remember Reno?" he chuckled.   
Vincent made a _very_ short sound in his throat as if he did indeed remember, but certainly didn't want to. "Hard to forget."   
Kyrie tried not to make too much of a show out of staring between the two of them curiously... but she could hardly help that. Their pasts were still shrouded in dire mystery--even a bit from themselves.   
"You'd have liked Reno." Cloud teased, letting her in a little.   
"He wouldn't have lasted ten seconds with her." The raven-haired man chuckled quietly to himself. He could picture it quite accurately, actually; Reno would have opened his mouth and Kyrie would have killed him. The redhead just had that affect on people.   
She got the gist of it, grinning a little. "Sounds like a winner."   
"He was a little Turk shit." Cloud commented sharply, then looked to Vincent to make sure he hadn't... well, offended him or something.   
The crimson-eyed man looked back with a smirk. "That was well after the Turks started taking in street trash."   
"And you were some kind of genteel gentleman, I suppose." Kyrie spoke up, amused.   
Well, Cloud found it funny. No one had ever _really_ called Vincent out on _that_ part of his past.   
"In comparison." The former Turk simplified.   
"Of coooourse." She pretended to agree, the grin growing wider even as she leaned back in absolute, cocky, glory. "You're a unique breed there, Valentine."   
Whoah. Cloud hadn't quite expected her to call him by his last name, there. It seemed a little too... dangerous. Challenging in more than a simply friendly way. Still funny as hell, though. He honestly couldn't have stopped the giggles if he'd wanted to.   
While neither of them were really _sure_ that they'd witnessed it, they'd have both sworn they'd seen Vincent literally bite his tongue. He was capable of quite a few destructive phrases... none of which he felt he ought to use at the moment. And certainly not in front of anyone capable of surviving to tell others.   
Cloud seemed to sense the the subject needed to be shifted, turning to his most recent sparring partner. "You've got potential, though. If you'd fight fair."   
"No fun in that." She scoffed jokingly.   
He gave her a measured glare... but not the sort that lasted. She was cocky, alright... but she knew her place, as well. That wasn't to say that she wouldn't push the boundaries until they snapped, however. "If you're up for it, I wouldn't mind training you."   
"Good luck." Vincent scoffed.   
"Does positive reinforcement completely escape you?" she gave him a grin and a sharp tongue--to which she got the most subtle middle finger she'd ever received. Well. Fine. She turned to Cloud, instead. "I can handle it. I hope."   
He nodded, pleased. She really did have amazing potential... but he'd always known that. Besides, he rather missed having someone to challenge him in terms of fighting. He was quite certain, after some time, she'd be a natural.   
Her eyes turned to Vincent, that cocky grin still shining through. "Then _you'll_ have to teach me a thing or two."   
"You should be more careful." The man warned in all seriousness. "I fight less than cleanly, myself."   
She just... grinned. A lot.   
Cloud rolled his eyes in the most exaggerated way possible before running a hand through his hair to "dress it up" a bit. Eh, the spikes were shot all to hell anyway. "Well, I didn't _lose_."   
"I think it's safe to say you would have won." Kyrie admitted. Almost a pleasant surprise if the wide eyes were any indication. "So I might have to learn some more moves. In a skirt."   
Wisely, all mouths were kept shut at that. Anything spoken could have lead to... trouble. 


	5. Chapter 5

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?   
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.   
**_Another NOTE_**: And finally, here comes the sex! 

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart   
Chapter 5   
By Orin Drake 

"Anybody die?" Rodger asked immediately upon seeing his wife in the hallway.   
"Not yet." She responded, glancing past him for a moment before seeing John dart across the hallway several yards away as if having forgotten something. Curiouser...   
Her husband distracted her as best he could. "So. Wanna go home and have an early birthday fuck?"   
_That_, she had _never_ expected him to say. Certainly not in the very public hallway of the estate. Not that she minded, really... after the moment of shock passed. "With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?"   
"You can't." He grinned, buying time for John. "That's what keeps you hanging around."   
Kyrie returned his expression, then shook her head. "That must be it, alright."   
"So..." he changed subjects quietly. "What happened?"   
"Cloud kicked my ass." She mumbled, crossing her arms. "But I played dirty before he could officially win."   
"Well of course." He agreed with her politics.   
"But... he said he'd train me." She looked down the hall again, making eye contact with a suddenly "extremely innocent" half-devil walking toward them.   
Rodger couldn't help but be impressed, really. "That's... dangerous." Wound up coming out.   
"I know." She agreed jokingly. When John stopped at her side, she couldn't really help but change the subject appropriately. "Are we headed home to roll around or what?"   
The silver-haired boy made fleeting and confused eye contact with the brunette before realizing that had been Rodger's "distraction technique". Appreciated. "Let's." 

Back to the station, they jumped the first Jet home. A nice, swift train ride was just what they needed--stopping dead as they entered the car.   
What Kyrie had forgotten was that the video tape had been left on the train after the visit with Quistis... and while it seemed at first that much had been an accident... it wasn't. Looking back, it _felt_ like an accident... but it only could have been intentional. Unconscious, but intended.   
And, suddenly... there the tape was. Resting on the seat. Comfortably. On a train that couldn't have possibly been the same one they traveled on to get there.   
They all chose to put it out of their minds. At that point... it wasn't worth whatever emotions it brought on. 

Walking in the front door (and instantly tossing the video in the closet), Kyrie contentedly pulled her boots off and draped herself over the couch. What a morning. And to think she had been planning on being in her underwear in front of the television all day...   
Well, what the hell was stopping her just then? With no self-consciousness, she pulled her jeans and shirt off, plopped them at the edge of the couch, and stretched out her legs.   
That, also, was appreciated. John was quick to follow, removing every stitch of clothing... save the red collar he'd taken to wearing all the time. It just felt... right, there.   
Rodger mock-sighed at the two of them. It wasn't as if he minded; in fact, it had taken too damn long to get home. He'd had images going through his head during the whole trip... ones that did not involve clothing, so he got rid of that first.   
Kyrie looked appreciatively from one boy to the other, enjoying the sights. She then opened her arms, jokingly asking, "And who gets to go first?"   
Her two "admirers" gave one another a look of amusement before her husband answered for them. "_We're_ gonna play, first. Early birthday present, after all."   
She did everything in her power not to let her jaw hit the floor. Yeah, they'd always done things together, but... rarely was it just the boys, even for her benefit. That was _very_ nice. "I am immensely grateful."   
Another look was exchanged--one of quick permissions and ideas. John then approached her, kneeling in front of the couch and grinning with a gloriously cocky, false innocence. "You'll have to take the rest of that off, first. It'll... help us."   
"Well, in the interest of helping." She agreed, ridding herself of bra and underwear within seconds.   
Rodger moved in front of them, leaving everything to imagination as he pulled the coffee table out of the way. Suddenly there was _plenty_ of floor space...   
And she was _not_ going to complain there. Front row seat, indeed.   
There was no look exchanged that time--no need for one. John leaned forward, his lips almost against her ear. His voice was deep, smooth, rough with sex. "Which one would you like to see on top first, Kyrie?"   
"You." She whispered back. "I want you to treat my husband very well."   
He pulled back, grinning. Well, if that's what the birthday girl wanted.   
Not that Rodger was one to complain. He laid down quickly on the floor, waiting for the "very well" feeling to overcome him. To his surprise, the blue eyes that appeared rather suddenly above him looked more than willing. Almost... hungry... which only added to the sensation when the boy's lithe body draped over his own. They'd never quite... done _that_ before...   
The half-devil was almost too pleased to be on top, grinding so perfectly slowly that he was starting to annoy himself right away--not that it kept him from doing it again. And _again_.   
Once more surprising himself, Rodger actually groaned at the slowness of the pressure above him, his hands automatically going for the boy's waist. It's not that he'd ever been opposed to the idea of just the two of them, but... the reason behind never having done this together before seemed like a distant and stupid thing. _Why_ had they never done this before!   
Kyrie was watching... very closely. John's smirk, Her husband's groan of impatience and pleasure--the two of them moving against one another... Almost too much. Too wonderful.   
Her husband realized, at about the fifth extremely slow grind, that he was far too close to going too far. "Going to need a pretty girl now, I think." He joked.   
The silver-haired boy was feeling... particularly interested in playing, all of a sudden. His eyes glittered, his expression betraying nothing but the utmost purity and innocence... as far as he could push it, anyway. "Oh? Aren't I pretty enough to fuck?"   
_How_ the brunette kept that moan from charging out of his lips and rendering him utterly useless was a mystery better left to philosophical scholars. _Somehow_, he contained it, making conversation instead. "Now, be careful what you ask for, devil-boy." He kept his voice low and dangerous--sure to keep a teasing grin on his lips. "You don't want this to go too far."   
"Oh?" the other challenged, grinding particularly hard and slow to wrench a breathless cry from the body beneath him. "You think you're up for that, do you?"   
For a moment, Rodger said nothing. In truth, he was answering in his head. What he finally managed, after his pause, was a devious chuckle. He had no problem trying new things, to put it lightly. He was also pretty damn sure Kyrie would have _no_ problems with it.   
For the moment, John thought he'd won. He continued to rub their bodies together, bringing the both of them vast pleasure from the practiced rhythm. Just when he thought his opponent was down, however--reinforcements. From behind, Kyrie slid one hand across his abdomen and down to his shaft, the other clawing at his chest while her teeth found portions of his neck not covered by the collar.   
It was all just too much. He jerked backward, finishing rough and unexpected... not that that took anything away from the orgasm. "That was... unfair..." he panted as he leaned back against her a little, sounding far less annoyed than he did extremely pleased.   
"Oh, and expecting me to watch all this without joining in was _fair_?" she challenged softly, holding him as he recovered.   
"Dammit." Rodger panted, half in jest and half truly annoyed.   
"I've got more planned for you, darlin'." She promised with a devious wink.   
Suddenly all annoyance disappeared. He grinned, instead. Well, if there were more planned... John took a breather for the moment, sitting back against the couch and watching the other two get into the action. So familiar with one another, moving so perfectly; there were no words, no need for them. It was at once the making of love, and animalistic fucking--all perfection, all natural unto themselves. They'd done it so often... this tangle of love and lust and physical expression of the greater whole they made together. It was fascinating. It was... distantly familiar. No, he himself wasn't _just_ fucked, not _just_ fucking, but...   
It was in their motions. How their bodies rested against each other, how their kisses switched between passion and tenderness, a palm against shoulder blade here, a light nip against the jaw there... All knowing the landscape, all having become already so comfortable. Not that he was _uncomfortable_... but not even he allowed himself that presence. While being a part of them, he was still... on the outside...   
As Kyrie worked her husband to the edge, she looked up--and saw it in the deepest of blue eyes, strikingly sincere only in the glitter of an instant before he masked them with that cocky grin again. Want. Need. But not for _sex_; not specifically, at least...   
She looked down, meeting Rodger's eyes... a silent expression exchanged between them--asking, and permission. "John." She whispered, gently. Suddenly Kyrie's birthday seemed to be all about making John the middle.   
He was a little surprised about being called back in so soon... not that he wasn't ready to try again. Something about watching the two of them was... satisfying. He crawled over to them, climbing behind Kyrie and caressing her shoulders. "Yes?"   
She greatly appreciated how rich and deep his voice became when he was really working it... not to mention how accurate his touch was in its lightness, just enough to feel the tickle of fingers with the barest of pressure. "Let's rearrange, shall we?" she suggested, signaling the boy beneath. As he moved out from under her, she quickly took his place to lay on her back, bringing John down on top of her.   
The half-devil nearly purred with the agreeable position, grateful. "And to what do I owe this extremely kind treatment?" he joked, slowly grinding himself against her firm, flat abdomen, working just a touch lower with every stroke.   
"Were you serious?" he eyes sparkled deviously as she asked.   
It was then that he stopped, his body paralyzed with the meaning of her question. She was asking if... he was willing to... and Rodger would... He swallowed, searching her eyes for deeper meaning for quite a number of seconds... finding only loving honesty in them. "I... wouldn't be opposed, to be honest."   
She took him at his word, drawing him back against her body... and lightly moving her hips, taking him inside of herself slowly. She felt him shiver and gasp, the motion unexpected so soon, his body still tender with actions mere moments ago. She glanced up past him to see Rodger crawl behind the boy, looking more than willing, starting off by only placing a light hand on John's shoulder...   
It was all too much, too fast... "Be careful..." the half-devil panted, clenching the carpet hard enough to pull some of the fibers out, "What monsters you bring to the surface."   
He should already know better. Kyrie bucked, hard, then squeezed herself around him extremely tightly. "Show me." She growled, almost as a challenge.   
He moaned at the suddenly intensified tightness. His eyes flashed open--just as red as the ones mirrored below. For one, single, split second in time, he felt absolutely trapped between them. A moment's panic--remembering things that went through his head while in Hell's room of souls, from his father's memory. Remembering his childhood, too... how it had all been ripped away from him so quickly. His mother dead, his father gone, the truth about what he was...   
It didn't matter, of course. He shook his head, blinking; eyes back to their almost unnaturally bright blue. If the truth had to be told, and he supposed it was being told right there and then as Kyrie's eyes regarded him with nothing of fear and everything of some odd, loving desire... he did feel safe there, between them. Safe... complete... home. The knowledge shook him; not in a negative context, not in a fearsome sort of way... but it was at once surprising, and comforting. There was no monster there, inside. A vicious beast should anyone try to hurt something he loved, but... never a monster. That, too... was a bit of a shock.   
Her arms rested snugly against his back, pulling him even closer. Maybe she got a little bit of what he was thinking... or maybe she just knew by instinct that he needed the extra protection, just for that small period of time. She let him rest his head on her shoulder for a moment, whispering against his neck, "If there's anything about this you don't want..."   
"No." He ground out slowly, his voice almost... fragile. It was remedied soon after, feeling a renewed sense of amorous lechery. "I... want this."   
Taking that as more of an invitation, Rodger gently pressed his full body against John's, taking a moment to feel the situation out. He _thought_ it would be awkward... feel weird, maybe even feel wrong, but... it didn't. It felt not only good, but... right. "I've never done this before..." he whispered softly.   
"S'okay." John reassured. "You won't break me."   
"That sounds like a challenge." The brunette threw back with a very soft buck against the other's bare back, amused. "Are you... sure?"   
"I am certain." He whispered breathily, gently rubbing back against the other boy... then softly into Kyrie, beneath.   
Rodger could hardly take it any longer. So many glorious possibilities... But, first... He'd only _read_ about it... the less-than-perfect girlfriend he'd had before Kyrie had introduced him (though not in the most pleasant of ways) to watching it being done... He was simply nervous about making it a bad experience for John. He couldn't very well just... dive right in, obviously. Still, he had worries about proceeding... a hand lightly tracing the half-devil's back, moving downward...   
"Go ahead." The silver-tressed boy's voice was rough with lust... fear... anticipation. "May as well get it all done in one swing, right?" Of course, he still didn't believe that this was going to happen...   
Rodger knew better than to take him too literally at his word. Even after all their time together, Kyrie needed a bit of patience in that respect. He could hardly imagine what damage was possible if he rushed with John, given the obvious differences in the situation... But, then... "Ready?"   
"Please." The boy beneath him purred. It was _killing_ him at that very moment not to give in and thrust ravenously into the cautious, understanding body beneath... and the warm, trusted body above.   
Swallowing, the brunette agreed. He began to back up, to reach under the couch cushions to find a small "special stock" of Quistis' gifts...   
"It's okay." John whispered again. "You can... you don't have to worry. About anything."   
The request was frankly a bit surprising... but got him all the hotter for it. Really, the boy had just requested that he cum inside of him... and he smirked at his wife's approving, soft moan at the situation. Alright, he could do that... Taking a deep, very willing breath, he scooted closer to the boy, taking note at the way Kyrie carefully held him against her body, using very slow, shallow thrusts to keep him... "interested". Rodger's reserve completely worn down by John's light moan at the brunette's hand on his hip, he carefully used his other hand to spread his own "natural lubrication" before pressing lightly but strongly inside.   
Many occurrences in Hell hurt a lot more, to be certain... but this was an altogether strange sensation blended in with the pain. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax, glad that Kyrie seemed to understand and stop moving underneath him save reaching up to massage his shoulders softly the entire time. The invasion itself was not at all pleasant--at first. Rodger was going slowly, which had initially annoyed him but quickly made him realize that it was utterly necessary for all of the sensations to come into play.   
Yes, the half-devil was bleeding... but, not so deep down, he was certainly a masochist. He began to enjoy the pain when it turned more to pleasure... though, even then, it was hard to bear. His whimpering sounds were gasping, appreciative, and it only kept the brunette going.   
By the time Rodger was fully seated, John was breathing extremely hard, hands clenched to the point where several patches of carpet suffered. It wasn't that it _hurt_, so much anymore... although it did. It was the foreign feeling of the entire situation, blended with the pleasure and the pain, the smells and the sounds of other breathing... It _was not bad_. But it may take a while to fully gain an appreciation for. Regardless, he tested out a very mild buck of his own.   
Parties on both sides quite enjoyed the unexpected motion. But it was the boy behind him that drew it further. First, one very slow thrust. Then, two, a little harder, a little deeper...   
John's yell at the third thrust was a surprise to all three of them. Not that it was a particularly _loud_ yell, but his voice had broken with it. Rodger had hit a place John hadn't even actually known existed--and it was _good_. His voice torn into gruffness, he caught his breath enough to plead, "Oh, Jesus _fucking_--**_yes!_**--do that again."   
The brunette chuckled and followed orders. Strange, he'd never thought John the yelling type... though he kind of enjoyed it. Kyrie made her pleasure obvious, but never quite in a yelling sort of way...   
She caught her husband's gaze, pleased and amused by the whole situation. _Happy fucking Birthday to me._   
John had already abandoned any hope of seeming at all in control of the situation. His arms were shaking, his entire body ignited by _another_ hard thrust against that _glorious thing_ deep inside of him, gasping and moaning with the sheer pleasure of it. He'd truly forgotten that he could move at all... until a less than gentle reminder from below met the next thrust from behind.   
The half-devil thought in that moment that he very well might _die_ if that happened again. His breath caught at the sensations dueling for his attention--but they wouldn't let him rest. Where his body momentarily faltered, they picked up the slack for him. From below was the sheerness of pleasure, tightness, heat--from above came a harsher pleasure born of pain and inexperience...   
They were holding him, but at the same time had their arms wrapped around one another. They kissed, around him... and then he felt not entirely delicate fingers winding through his hair, lifting his head before Kyrie's eager lips claimed his own. Carefully... questing... demanding, then... gentle... Loving. All... loving...   
A second pair of lips against his--to his surprise, he could tell the difference between them. Both gloriously soft, both with their own style. He hadn't expected Kyrie to be more forceful, to tell the truth... but then he would look back on that moment and understand that he hadn't expected it to happen like that at all. How they managed to plunder his mouth at the same time was beyond him--and likely would be for some time...   
There was no way he could last at their rhythm. Absolutely no way he could have stopped himself from toppling. The warm body below him, engulfing him fully; the body above, pounding an exceedingly sensitive spot inside of him; the closeness and pleasure of all of it... it became utterly impossible to hold on. With a few more quick thrusts himself, he was gone to the world in a long, loud shout of absolution.   
Kyrie felt him quicken and seize--using his moment of ecstasy and body stiffness to ride herself right on home. To see that open-mouthed look of pleasure, to hear that breathy cry of release... it was amazing.   
Rodger held on as long as he possibly could, but the end had already wrapped around him _tightly_, squeezing for all it was worth. The warmth, the grasping muscles, the sound of his wife's and the beautiful boy's call of lust was too much. He collapsed on top, the intensity of his release robbing him even of consciousness for a moment.   
All was silent, save breathing. Then, a little bit of consciousness came into play... the warmth, the pleasure, the joy... and slowly coming out of it still surrounded by two pairs of arms was... so...   
"Good." John certainly didn't see much need for further conversation.   
Neither did the other two, really. It was a long time before any of them actually moved, let alone understood the difference between ecstasy and coherency. Somehow, they'd managed to collectively wind up in a comfortable pile of arms and legs... that was enough, for a long time.   
"I've got to ask something." John's voice finally drifted through, sounding somewhat aware of his surroundings.   
"Shoot." Kyrie invited, feeling a general sense of... good.   
"Already did." He quipped quickly. "About that question, though." It was one he'd wanted to ask for so long that he'd almost forgotten it--until that moment when all was blank. "What... exactly... I mean... about... Vincent... what... the fuck?"   
His phrasing was pitch-perfect, and she giggled like a loon (albeit a tired loon) for a very long time. "I don't know what it is. But it is." She responded honestly.   
He could accept that, alright. "Doesn't the claw kind of weird you out, though?"   
Rodger joined in the laughter. "It's kinky." He answered for her.   
"Does it vibrate?" the half-devil teased.   
Hm. Odd that she couldn't answer either way. "You know, I didn't ask."   
Her husband gasped. "I'm surprised at you, Kyrie!"   
"I'm sure I ought to be ashamed." She admitted.   
"Yeah, but you never are." Rodger teased.   
Silence passed after the tired giggles died... until John decided he may as well ask. No harm in knowing. "So... does this mean your my bitch next time, Rodger?"   
Funny as the question was, he felt as if he had to clear things up a little. "You weren't my bit--"   
"That's right." Kyrie interrupted. "You're _my_ bitch."   
"My mistake." John feigned backing off, feeling perfectly comfortable with the half-answer given.   
Another long, wonderful moment of silence fell over them as they rested... though, Kyrie had to admit that her arm was falling asleep from the somewhat hard floor underneath. That, and she was tired... in the best of ways. For the best of reasons. "I'm going to bed, dammit."   
"Should sleep here... comfy..." Rodger trailed off.   
"Satin sheets are more comfy." She responded, making a weak attempt at sitting up.   
"...True." 

How they'd managed to make it up the stairs was unimportant--the fact they'd made it at all was the accomplishment. The fact John could climb onto the bed on his own was a _real_ accomplishment... but they'd all agreed that Rodger could and should be the first to go "clean up", so the other two really had nothing better to do than lay on the bed and wait.   
And... well, talk. Kyrie struck up the conversation, seeing that it seemed John needed a little distraction from the ache as he healed. "You don't _have_ to wear that collar, y'know..."   
"I like it." He responded, sounding more comfortable than she'd expected.   
"Well. Okay, then." She agreed. She wasn't about to have him wear it just on her... preference.   
"I can get a tag for it, for your birthday." He winked.   
Not that she didn't appreciate the thought, certainly. "You're not my possession, John."   
"Oh, I know that." He waved off.   
"And you're not just a toy, either." Her voice was quiet... serious.   
Her words gave him just the courage he'd needed. "I l--"   
She placed a fingertip over his lips before he could complete his statement. "Don't say it."   
He blinked at her interruption. "Even though it's true?"   
"Especially because it's true." She admitted, nearly under her breath.   
That was... odd. Surprising. Almost... unlike her, in a way. "Why not? Don't you want to hear it?"   
She shook her head; it wasn't _that_... "I didn't want this to have to be... one of those things where anyone feels obligated to say anything. Ever. Nor should it be a... birthday present."   
Ah, he understood... but why would she think..? "It's not like that. Not either of those things at all."   
"Those puppy dog eyes aren't going to work, demon spawn." She teased, knowing things had almost gotten a little too intense for a moment there.   
So he flashed his Killer Grin of Utmost Charm, instead. "Is the great Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas afraid of someone else proclaiming their heart's truest devotion?"   
She wasn't sure what she was more astounded by--his poetic phrase or the fact that he'd gotten her full name right. In fact, it made her pause for too long to block his words.   
"I love you, Ky. We don't have to make a habit of saying it, but you oughta know, s'all."   
She accepted his sentiment without argument, but met it with curiosity. "What brought this up?"   
--Wait. "Aren't you forgetting something?"   
_Cheeky bastard._ "Nope." She grinned slightly, refusing to return his words if only to annoy him.   
"Aw, c'mon. Give me some satisfaction, woman!"   
Her smirk was cutting. Well, since he asked so nicely. "I love you--r sexy sexy hair."   
He crossed his arms and pouted with a grunt.   
Well... if he insisted. It wasn't said because he'd pulled it from her; it was true. It had been for some time, merely in silence. "I love you too, John."   
With that out of the way, he answered her previous question. "Seemed... appropriate. I dunno. Rodger and I were talking."   
"Always dangerous." A phrase the three of them knew and loved together.   
"You bet." He agreed. "Just got me to thinking. I've been here for a while, and... it was always more than sex. Told him so."   
That was... surprising... "You _didn't_ tell _him_ before you told _me_."   
"You're a fucking lot more intimidating, okay?" he defended, hands up.   
Well, that made her laugh. She reached out and tussled his hair lightly. "Better believe it."   
It was then that the bathroom door opened, Rodger emerging with the continued look of worn-out contentment from earlier. "Alright, I'm done."   
"Took you long enough. Considering what just happened, anyway." John teased, getting up to use "the facilities".   
As the door closed, the brunette took the empty place at his wife's side, pulling her close. "Have fun, birthday girl?"   
"Holy fucked-up _Hyne_, yes." She uttered in total honesty.   
That made him chuckle. "I'm glad." He rested his head on her shoulder for a moment... and then another. Almost too long, really, but... he'd been thinking. He didn't know whether he should bring it up or not, but... after so long of a silence, he realized she wasn't about to let it pass. "Do something for me, though?" he whispered, to her alone.   
Strange, to say the least... but the tone of his voice bade her listen carefully. "Hm?"   
"Stop leaving me out of it." He requested softly. "Please... I want all of you." He closed his eyes, trying to find words that would express what he really needed. "I don't... want you to face these things alone anymore. I can handle _some_ of it at least, huh?"   
He wanted to know... all of the insane shit she'd tried to keep him away from... tried to keep him safe from... On one hand, she wanted to completely refuse, but... She understood his request. "Is that really what you want?"   
"So much, Ky." He wrapped his arms around her, nearly pleading. "I want it so much..."   
"Okay." She promised, holding him back just as tightly. If that was... really what he wanted... she would not deny him. "But I... don't want it to... hurt..." she tried to put her thoughts into words, finding it nearly impossible to simplify all of the shit she'd been through in recent years.   
"I was with you from the beginning." He reminded her.   
"You had no idea what you were getting into." She half-joked... half made him admit to himself...   
"I had a choice." It was a solid insistence.   
"And yet you stayed. You fool." She joked.   
"I am devoted." He grinned, nuzzling the side of her neck softly.   
"Supposedly." She threw back, closing her eyes. Even though he was smiling, even though she enjoyed it, wanted to keep joking with him... she couldn't help the melancholy pain that crept into her heart just then. "I love you." She whispered it, almost afraid to say it too loudly and bring about apocalypse.   
He only held her tighter, doing everything in his power to show her that he'd keep her safe... away from her pain. "I love you, too."   
She smiled lightly at their evolution past some conversations. There was no need to vocalize the reassurances, the promises... They were always there. Always would be. And they both knew with no doubt.   
The bathroom door opened, the light falling over them--right before John's voice rose in mock-annoyance. "I can't _believe_ you rabbits are starting again without me." 

She was not normally one to get late night snacks. They just didn't appeal to her, really. Unless it was a particularly exhausting "session with the boys", but even then... that was what sleep and breakfast were for, mostly.   
She was hungry, though, dammit. Hungry and a little unwilling to sleep... at least, not without a few moments by herself.   
Being as quiet as possible, she admired the moonlight through the never-quite-closed curtains as it speckled the carpet and couch. Well... it _was_ nice... Maybe she could forgo the snack (and the extra fifteen minutes of training it would take to disappear, no doubt) and just... lay there for a moment. Too pretty not to revel in for a little while.   
It was upon walking to the couch that something about the front window seemed to catch her eye. Nothing in particular, really--looked more like a firefly had passed in front of it. Still... call it paranoia, but she wanted to make sure it wasn't the flash of a car's lights of someone delivering yet more unsettling news upon her--   
And then it flickered. The glass itself became iridescent liquid--reaching for her.   
Never in her life had something so mind-fuckingly terrifying happened. Not like _that_, never like--   
She stumbled backward, unable to make a sound, unable to think even enough to avoid the furniture. Pure animal instinct possessed her, told her to _run_, to put distance between herself and this thing she did not understand to _survive_.   
Eyes gone wide, adrenaline pumping, her chest rising and falling with breathing she'd never had on the worst training days, she backed away quickly; but did not _look_ away. Even before her mind was capable of registering it, she bore witness to... _someone_... stepping through the shimmering liquid glass.   
Panic was dulled only slightly by curiosity; it was a figure, alright. Human-ish... tall... entirely hidden within a hooded cloak.   
Her back hit the kitchen doorway, very nearly wrangling a shuddering cry from her throat--but the constant, severe beat of adrenaline and readied Materia was starting to part ways to render some odd, unknown piece of memory available if only she would take the time to examine it... And, granted, that was a little fucking hard in the situation.   
The form, though... the cloak... Granted it was dark, it was shocking, her mind did not want to break past the wall of primal survival instinct, but... she could not deny... Even with her back to the kitchen doorway, still trying to decide to fight or flee... she knew it. Deep down. She could not speak it... could not ask...   
"You're... her... aren't you?" the form inquired for her. The voice was... ragged... ancient... but youthful, at the same time. Male. Soft. Questing so desperately for something... "You touched..." it seemed as if the name itself took a great deal of force and concentration to bring forth upon the world, "S-Sora's heart..?"   
She didn't want to answer. _Hyne_, how she did not want to _listen_ to the words, let alone _answer_ the question... But she knew who it was with no doubt. No second-guesses, no uncertainty. Slowly sliding back up the wall into a full standing position, she could not help but confirm it. "Ri--... Riku?"   
The form flinched as if stricken. His answer was slow to come and quiet. "Yes."   
She nodded, then. Still terrified, in a way... perhaps even moreso than she was before. It must have been obvious by then; she'd already answered him by her reaction. Panic ensued, if only because she could feel the aura of _wrongness_ that he carried with him... alone. "Where's Sora?"   
A shudder grasped his body. Oh, if only she knew how long he'd been asking that same question... "I'm sorry..." he whispered, taking only one step toward her. The distance was still great, and he would allow it to be... but she needed to know how serious he was. "He needs your help."

* * *

It starts! The plot, it thickens... even though nothing's really been revealed yet... but it still works, I think. I've come to realize that I'm the only person, in the history of all things, that could actually start out with the intention of writing a completely disturbing, dirty, angst- and sex-ridden squick fic in the _Final Fantasy VIII_ universe, only to have it turn out to be _five stories long_, revolving around original characters and _Final Fantasy VII_ cast members, mixed with _Devil May Cry_ and _Kingdom Hearts_ universes, and actually involves _plot_. What the hell is wrong with me?   
Don't answer that.   
If you'd like to be e-mailed when I update, drop me a line with whatever story/stories/website you'd like me to inform you of. 


	6. Chapter 6

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?  
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart  
Chapter 6  
By Orin Drake

"What happened?" she found herself whispering, unsure if she really cared to hear the answer.  
All she could see of Riku's face was the shadow of his mouth and a few strands of silver hair... but the tone of his voice expressed his concern. Exhaustion... and fear. "A... lot... has fallen apart..."   
The words made her blood run cold, fear clasping her chest as she attempted to breathe normally. "Sora..." she whispered, trying to make her voice steady. "What happened to Sora..?"  
"His heart... it's been destroyed. All worlds are lost without his heart in tact." He simplified, clearly having issue with the content behind the simple language. "You hold the last known piece of it... and his memories." His tone was a quiet, desperate plea. "You're our chance."   
Her? It was on... her..? Voice held steady by sheer force of will, she didn't bother to pull punches. "What about... _you_?"   
He knew what she was asking... and even though his face was hidden, it was too painful. He turned away to compose himself, away from the eyes that may have shimmered red but held the memory's ghost of blue inside. "I... it was... taken from me."  
That time his voice didn't even sound... human. It was torn and scratchy; weighted with things she couldn't understand, but... knew, regardless. Heavy with pain... guilt... sin, perhaps... but there were other matters to attend to. To be settled, to know for absolute certain with nothing left unspoken. "What, exactly, did you come for?"  
"You." He answered honestly, turning just slightly back toward her; not enough to show his face. It had become obvious that she was looking for his point, his true objective--bluntness seemed his best option. "It's Sora's only chance."  
She tried to swallow her heart back into her chest, finding her throat dry. It wasn't that she hadn't expected something that... drastic, that specific... but... "What _happened_ to him?" she tried again.  
Breathing. Forced calm... calculating silence... What could he tell her without risking... emotion? "He... he lost... everything..."  
No, she felt no lies in his words... but his obvious over-simplification was not helping her increasing pulse rate or the rising bile in her stomach. "Riku." She demanded, quietly.  
Taking a deeper breath to respond was almost too much. His chest clenched, knowing she was looking for more... but there was only so much he could explain. "His heart... his soul... he fell..."  
There was a shadow to his voice, a darkness the likes of which she never thought possible. Weight beyond weights. She'd never known a guilt to run so deep. Even her own parents hadn't known... _that_ kind of pain...  
"I wasn't there... to help..." he gasped, trying to regain his composure as his fists balled up tightly, the squeaking leather of his gloves reminding him that it was not the time to let memory overwhelm him. After a moment of forced, steady breathing, he recovered enough to continue. "I have to make it right. Whatever it takes."  
She understood that much... even if she didn't want to at just that moment. She didn't _want_ the two worlds to run into one another again... but, now that they had... the realization had finally, truly settled upon her. She accepted it with all the cold calmness she felt it deserved. "So... you'll want to take me back with you."  
He nodded, still avoiding eye contact. "I didn't realize it was night here. It can... wait. Until morning."   
He meant to take her regardless of what she said or agreed to. She knew that without question... and she understood that part, too. Specifically, that was what made it so hard, perhaps; she'd do the same thing for someone she loved so much. Hyne help the poor bastard that tried to get hold of anyone she cared that deeply for...  
So. Time to... get things moving, she supposed... with a heavy heart. "Won't you... sit for a while. Make yourself comfortable. I need to... I have to... tell them."   
"Them?" he questioned, softly.  
Maybe Sora left out that little portion... or maybe it was just that Riku needed more information than she could give at that moment. She nodded, leaving most of his question unanswered. "I'll be back in a few minutes. And we'll... talk some more." She hardly waited for him to nod agreement before she was walking up the stairs... feeling as if it were toward certain doom.  
Step by step, it seemed a long way up. On one hand, she was sure the whole thing was utterly ridiculous. Anyone outside would say she never knew Sora, had barely even met him... but they didn't understand how encompassing that sharing of memories had been. Maybe, in a sense... it really was the sharing of hearts, as well. She couldn't deny the intense feeling that she _should_ know him... that she was _meant to_...  
It was sickening. It was just another... thing. Another burden she'd taken on quite easily... but had brought onto others, as well. To be without heart seemed an easier thing, all of a sudden.  
John's hearing never betrayed him. His impossibly bright blue eyes met her from the instant she walked into the dark room. Only concern fell over his gaze... he said nothing. Indicated nothing. He'd heard _everything_... and the still-sleeping boy beside him just made it all the more terrifying. Would she tell Rodger... or would she try to protect him again...  
"I promised." She mouthed in the darkness, knowing he could pick it up easily. That's what he'd requested... to know. To be part of this... She saw John move aside a little, letting her have room... and ready to support her if she needed it. She felt very much like she would.  
As for Rodger... he knew. He just... knew, as he felt her hand on his shoulder to wake him. It wasn't as if he was having a particularly dark dream... or a particularly dazzling one. It was simply the essence in the air that he woke to... and he was quite sure, as the sleepiness disappeared all too quickly, that he might start to regret his request.  
She knew his eyes were clear as he sat up... so she tried to get it all over with in a swift manner. "That dream... of the other world..."  
"Let me guess." Even with the worry, even through the roughness of his freshly woken voice... he found it in him to joke, just a little. He had to... if he wanted to live another day, he had to. "It wasn't a dream."  
Well... that made it all a little bit easier. She coughed, trying to sum up her thoughts... trying to come up with some explanation that would sound at all logical to anyone but herself... not that hers sounded logical at all. To anyone.  
"So... what happens now?" he inquired for her. Down to the meat of things... cut through the bone, even.  
"Now I see what kind of information I can get out of him... then I guess I have until morning." Simple. So it sounded, anyway.  
Silence. Maybe a little unexpected... but, in hindsight, not really. "_We_ have until morning." Rodger corrected, taking a deep breath and wondering how many more hours of sleep he _should_ be getting... but wouldn't. "No fucking way you're getting out of here without me."  
Still a humor about him, yes... but a tired one. Worn... tattered... Glad as she was to have him beside her...  
"Well I'm not staying here." John added, quietly. "Alone. Lonely. Cold."  
She was immeasurably glad to have another partner in crime along with her, but... "Haven't you been through enough, devil-boy?"   
"I could say the same for both of you." John had _meant_ to have humor in his voice... but somehow it hadn't come through.  
...Well. Suddenly they all seemed pretty much agreeable.

She _really_ hadn't wanted to go back down those stairs... but she knew she had to. Details would be important... but more than that, ground rules. Or something slightly resembling them, anyway.  
She spotted the lights on in the kitchen, somewhat amused that her uninvited guest had already made himself _that_ comfortable... but when she arrived at the doorway, she couldn't help but notice that he hadn't touched anything but the light switch. That, and the chair he was sitting in, leaning toward the table so his face was still obscured by hood and shadow.  
It was... weird. Almost wrong, really. He just didn't... belong there. And not at all in a way that suggested he wasn't _welcome_ (in some sense, anyway)--it was simply clear that he wasn't quite a part of the world he stood within. Almost a painful quality to look at. "Would you like anything?"   
He smiled, a little. It was a bittersweet expression... but he appreciated how civil she still was to him. "No, thank you."  
Something... tugged at her. "Anything to eat?"   
He gave her a polite shake of his head, unwilling to explain. It was just... too much to express.  
Though he should have known; with her, it was never that easy. Sora wasn't one to let things rest so quietly, either. "You're sure you're not hungry? I have a little bit of everything..."   
It was probably just his imagination... his over-active desire to see Sora in her eyes, but... He had to respond. "It's... hard to eat."   
She went over those words in her mind, making sure her gaze was aimed at a spot beyond his robe... There was an immense instinct welling inside of her--one in need of a satisfying answer. "Humor me, Riku."   
His eyes widened a little as let his head rise just slightly, her words unexpected. "How so?"  
Quiet. Simple. Direct. "Just... pull up your sleeve for me."  
He knew what she was after. It angered him, terrified him, and there was no way he was going to--  
"Riku." Soft as her voice was, its tone was harsh. Ready for a fight. Maybe even provoking one intentionally.   
He got the distinctly dangerous impression that she _got_ what she was after--and she never picked a fight she couldn't win. He swallowed, trying to come up with a decent excuse... then dropped his head. He needed her to trust him... and if that's what it took... He sighed, closing his eyes as he rolled up his sleeve.  
Her surprise was silent, but obvious. The boy was skin and bones punctuated by things that _might_ resemble muscles. The idea that he would be able to do _anything_ by himself was clearly faltering. That couldn't be the only reason he needed her... but that seemed a subject to be worked out at a better time. "Eat something."  
He swallowed, a familiar bile in the back of his throat as he rolled his sleeve back over his arm. It was so hard... so hard to choke anything down...  
"Anything." Her insistence wasn't... harsh, really. But it wasn't to be ignored, either. Certainly not completely refused...  
His look was actually a little pleading. "I'm not... I don't think I should... try. It's... it doesn't..."  
She sat across from him, slowly. There was no threatening intention, there... but the idea that there very well _could_ be, and with little effort, was not far underneath the surface. She didn't _want_ to intimidate him... but there were many flashes of Sora's memory that kept poking teasingly at her consciousness, never quite forming but there all the same. He would want Riku to eat. And he would be just as insistent. "I am not going to go to bed until you eat. And keep it down."  
Unreal. Did she really expect this to work..? "I'm sure you've got someone upstairs waiting for you." He tried, desperate and attempting not to let it show.  
"They'll understand." She responded without a flinch.   
--'They', again..? It wasn't a word to get caught up in, however. Alright, well... next plan, then. "You need your sleep."  
She was a master at these games. "Tough for me."   
"I do, too." He insisted.  
"Tough for you." He watched her expression soften just enough to show him she was joking... somewhat.  
"I take my power from the Darkness." He decided to switch tactics. It wasn't as if he was lying to her, after all.   
"Might help to get some from food, too." She shot back. "Before your body can't handle Darkness, either." Suddenly she could almost clearly remember slivers of Sora's memories of the boy... and if Riku deserved even one speck of the devotion he had been granted, then she would have to take care of him. A bit of herself remembered what she knew of Sora's heart... and while not "pure" in the exact ways a deeply and slightly insane religious man might think of as such, it was innocent. For all the darkness, Sora's heart had still been light... in more than one way.  
Riku's shoulders dropped just slightly. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to eat... he just _couldn't_. Too much had happened... too much to think about...  
It didn't stop her, though. She'd already stood up, wandering the refrigerator for something that a tender stomach might not refuse. Well, she still had some mashed potatoes by some wonder (John must have forgotten about them)... but perhaps the left-over chicken breast was a better option. More protein, after all... it would be more helpful to eat that. Hey, they couldn't have pizza for _every_ meal.  
What was placed in front of him was a very simple plate of a few small pieces of cold chicken and a spoonful of mashed potatoes. "I can heat them up if you want," she invited softly, "But this might be easier."  
He wanted to argue again, to tell her it wasn't necessary... but she'd already placed the fork in his hand. Lightly... carefully... and in a very familiar way.  
He sighed... his hand shook a little. It'd been so long since he'd tried to eat... The only thing that kept his hand in motion toward the food was the watchful gaze over him. Not demanding... but not letting him back away, either.  
He tried. Hyne bless him, she _felt_ the effort in the motions... but he just couldn't swallow more than a little. She heard his stomach react to it in a loud, sick-sounding grumble... and so she wouldn't push him on. "Alright." She stopped him quietly. "You better get some rest."   
He swallowed several times to make sure nothing would find its way back up... then seemed a little less frightened of the possibility. "I... I'll try."  
She gave him a nod, taking his plate. "You can have the guest bedroom across the hall from ours. It's always made up and relatively clean."  
Such... invitation. He wasn't used to that... and certainly not when he'd brought such terrifying information. Did she realize what was being asked of her? How could she treat him so civilly? There was no familiar hatred in her eyes, however. Maybe it wasn't all pleased to see him... but there wasn't the immediate danger of being stabbed in the night. Or something far worse.  
He could accept that. "Kyrie... I... appreciate the effort."   
"Heh. Me, too." She found in in her to smile a bit. She still couldn't grasp specific memories... but she knew Sora would have done an awful lot just to be in the position she was in. She couldn't waste that. She nodded, letting the boy be for as long as he pleased. "G'night, Riku."

About halfway through the conversation downstairs, John was momentarily distracted by the clearing of Rodger's throat. Hm. "I notice you're not sleeping."  
The brunette snickered a little without turning over. "Neither are you."  
"I don't need that much." The half-devil dismissed.  
"Neither do I." Rodger stated easily.  
Hm. A little awkward. Time to change subjects. "So. How was the weather since I've been gone?"   
_Then_ the brunette turned over with a slightly joking roll of his eyes. The other boy picked the worst subjects to change to when conversation wasn't as open as he liked. "I'm a little... frustrated."  
Well, that was better. "I can imagine."  
Rodger sighed, closing his eyes. "What do you think of him?"  
"I think he's dangerous." John answered honestly. "But no more than she is."  
He took a moment to consider that. He supposed he could see what the other boy meant, yes... "Nothing out of the ordinary then, I guess."  
"Probably not." John agreed. "But... a little unique. Right?"  
The brunette made a dull sound of acknowledgment. Yes, there was one distinct new difference. "The memories..."   
"Mm." The half-devil confirmed.  
"I don't... know about that. Exactly." Rodger admitted. Kyrie hadn't spoken much of it... of course, she had thought it was a dream. Why elaborate quite so much on a slightly unpleasant dream, she must have thought...  
The sudden silence got the other to thinking. "You don't think she's keeping anything from you..?"  
"No, no." The brunette assured. "But I'm pretty sure there's more to say than just... mentioning the fact she shared memories with someone."  
John thought for a long time, staring up through the dark with his half-devil vision, seeing much more than even a cat would. Hearing little bits of the conversation downstairs even if he didn't really mean to. "I don't know how you manage."   
There was a laugh... but it was too shallow. "I tell you... I wish I knew."

Kyrie made her way up the stairs, somewhat stumbled into bed, then awkwardly but successfully crawled over John to reach her center position... to which Rodger's slight chuckle revealed him to be awake. Her indication that the other was still awake was quite a bit more rude... but nonetheless appreciated. Even as she swatted his hand away from her ass.  
As the soft giggles died, the breathing slowed... but they were waiting for her. To say something, to do something... To give orders, perhaps. "Just... be here. Now."


	7. Chapter 7

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?  
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before any plot detail on _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.  
**_GREAT BIG STORY-RELATED NOTE:_** A lot of of this story was "planned" (as much as I _can_ plan anything with Kyrie) well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out. At this point, I've almost completely spoiled myself as to plot points of the game (yay spoilers!)... but I'm rather planning to stay with the original direction this story was going in, in the first place. Therefore, there _will_ be references to _Kingdom Hearts 2_, but... generally don't worry about me spoiling anything for you. I guess that makes this AU. Dammit.

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart  
Chapter 7  
By Orin Drake

She watched the morning sunlight sneak through the crack between the curtains covering the front windows, taking her damn sweet time to wake up. Even before her eyes opened, her chest was tight--too tight for any restful sleep--with anxiety... frustration... and, little though she cared to admit it, anticipation. The battle storm was coming... and despite her unwillingness to shed blood, the adrenaline rush was a very natural thing.  
Not that life was ever boring. Not that she'd prefer adventure over sleeping in with her boys. _But_... that damn curiosity was going to kill her some day... as did her sense of "right"... or whatever the hell it was. The wanting to know what had happened, wanting to see it all with her own eyes... wanting to help. For Sora's sake.  
She let out a mild sigh at her own stupidity. She hadn't exactly been _invited_ to help. A choice was never given, nor inferred. She understood that much, completely... but she didn't have to appreciate it fully.  
John, who'd heard the sigh, turned over to face her direction; which, in turn, woke Rodger just enough to roll onto his back and snore, once. Loudly. It was unknown whether his own snoring had ultimately woken him, or if it had been the chuckles that followed... but he wished he knew who to blame.

Showers were short and single-file... and no one went downstairs. Not yet... not until they were all... ready.  
Kyrie was first in the shower out of the sheer need to wash away as much as possible from her skin... as if it were all that easy. Not usually one for short showers, she barely bothered to stand in the hot stream let alone use soap and shampoo... but there was no reason to smell bad just because a new journey was at hand. At least that thought was kind of amusing.  
Rodger was next, if only because he'd managed to stumble toward the bathroom a little faster than John. Or perhaps it was because he was groggier and therefore hadn't the mind about him to smile appreciatively at his wife's naked form. Either way.  
Another uncharacteristically quick shower later, and John was next in. It was at that point when Rodger was awake enough, aware enough... to feel the dread washing over him. To the rest of the world, Kyrie was merely dressing. Underwear, jeans, shirt... but he felt it like a force of nature. That cold again. That call of duty... calm before battle. Her learned, highly developed, cold ice storm. It was almost hard to accept... but a necessity.  
If he were ever forced to admit it, Rodger would have to say that Kyrie's cold was a thing that made him extremely uneasy. An asset in combat, yes... but before the actual battle, it made her seem foreign. Unknown to him, distant.  
The ice over her eyes softened a bit when she realized he was looking at her as though she were a complete stranger. It was a... moment of realization, to put it lightly. "Battle mode." She explained and apologized at once.  
He nodded. "I get it. I just wish it didn't have to happen."  
She didn't explain... but she didn't need to. Riku was downstairs... and he would be waiting. There was a chance, if they didn't go downstairs soon, that he would take it upon himself to _move_ them in that direction...  
She closed her eyes, trying to clear the thought from her head. Riku was _not_ the enemy. He was simply forced to use... methods that she did not entirely enjoy. She _understood_ his drive--that was the difficult part.  
John striding proudly out of the bathroom with no effort to hide his nudity was the thing that changed her thought process--she only wished it had been for the better. She knew she had to tell _someone_ they were... headed elsewhere, for a while. Really, there was only one person to tell... and she didn't want to. To put more weight on him was... hardly fair...  
Though, she knew. She knew he'd have wanted her to inform him, regardless of the circumstance. Probably not by calling, but... she didn't think she'd have the chance to visit, nor did she think he'd have let her go if she were to walk into his office with her ice mask on. It was all she could do not to let out a soul-wracking sigh at the very idea...  
She walked to the phone on the other side of the bed, confident her mood was being read. Needing to retain her calm, regain her confidence... she sat on the mattress and pulled the phone from its base. Long ago she'd been granted everyone's contact information, hoping she'd never have to use it. With that hope firmly in place, she'd memorized numbers, steps, turns and addresses. The buttons practically pressed themselves from that hopeful memory that she'd never need them.  
One ring. Two. The third was cut short. "Hello."   
Short. Professional. He hadn't checked his caller I.D., likely expecting it to be a call from inside the Estate. "Hey, Vincent."  
A long, dark silence. She never called. And certainly not his personal cell... "Kyrie."  
She forced herself to take a steady breath, quiet enough not to be heard over the phone. Or so she'd hoped. "Just wanted you to know... if you don't see us for a few days, will you come check on the house?"  
Another long, pregnant silence. The professionalism remained, likely as a tactic to keep his emotion in check rather than to indicate anyone else was in the room. "Of course. Planning to go away?"  
What a way to put it... "Things still have to be done." She simplified, fighting to keep her voice as steady as his. It came out flat, and she knew it... but it was better that way. The less he knew...  
His heart sank... and she heard it in his voice. "I see."   
"Catch you soon." She wanted to say _"I love you"_... but maybe it wasn't the time.  
"Be careful, Kyrie." He responded, similarly holding back... but not as much, at least. That was enough spoken. The rest was understood.

It was well past dawn as Riku continued to wait at the kitchen table. Not that it was getting _late_, by any means... but every moment that ticked by was a moment closer to his goal; it was hard to wait.  
Then--the door opened. Footsteps. He sat up straight, gazing toward the entranceway... and forced himself to wait some more. Three sets of steps... Indeed _two_ gentlemen emerged with her... interesting.  
Young as they were... all three of them looked like warriors. It may have been the grim atmosphere, the heavy footsteps... but likely it was just the three of them together, as ready as they'd ever be.  
Kyrie lead them, feeling at home in no other place than directly at the front. Seifer's collar tight around her left thigh. Tucked under her simple white shirt, was her wedding ring. Out front for all to see shone Griever. And then, of course, there was Eleison... her gunblade. She'd chosen to wear the jacket she'd had made years previous--black leather, the cut unconsciously resembling Squall's old bomber jacket... with the Bloodcross brightly gracing its back.  
Rodger was right behind her, his prized and shining rifle held lightly across his chest as if in prayer. He was geared up the least of all of them--jeans, a t-shirt, some rugged old boots... but not to be underestimated. He'd learned the trade of fighting dirty over time, and his will was enough to wrestle through any situation--it shone in his eyes. The distant guardian, the watcher sometimes... he could be a fighter, if he needed to be.  
John followed last, finding himself natural in the position of watching their backs. He'd learned, over time, that when in Hell, one wore leathers; logic followed that he had no idea where they'd wind up, but that "just in case" seemed the perfect occasion for his bartered (and very worn) red leather pants and his old black leather cycle jacket, an old black t-shirt worn gray peeking out from underneath. Hey, might as well be comfortable. His father's sword on his back and guns at his hips, he was feeling pretty damn confident, too.  
Riku couldn't help but notice how cold Kyrie's eyes had gone. Battle would do that to anyone, eventually... he knew that all too well. Her cold was of a different sort, though. It took him a while to realize it was a battle mask, showing nothing of the girl that had tried to get him to eat with every good intention mere hours ago. He lifted from his place at the table as their decent ended, walking out of the kitchen and standing before them in silence.  
John felt taint rolling off of his form like a demon, but he said nothing. He was pretty sure he didn't have to. One didn't need to be half devil to understand the boy was of some... unnatural darkness. He made a mental note to watch closely, anyway, eyes narrowing when the robed form stepped in front of them and looked to them as if in appraisal.  
The word on Riku's lips was ludicrous... but he knew he must speak it, regardless. "Prepared?"  
For a short breadth of time, they all expect Kyrie's response to come with violence if not venom... but she trained herself well. All coldness. "Yes." There was no more time for preparation. Nothing else was to be done... and that moment was never a good one. The three of them were decked out in what could only be called battle gear... as ready as they'd ever find themselves. It was time to get it over with.  
Riku had no choice but to believe her. Time was already too short--he had to get back. He _needed_ these things completed. With little acknowledgment, he turned and walked again to the window in the living room that he had passed through to arrive there. Hand outward, fingers splayed and palm not quite touching the glass, he recited words that he honestly did not recognize under his breath. The glass shuddered... and became liquid again.  
Kyrie felt her stomach drop. She didn't dare look behind her to see the expressions on Rodger's or John's faces... but she had a pretty good idea of what would be there. Forcing her feet to move before she lost her resolve entirely, she followed the boy to the window... and stared at the glistening, moving surface. _Everything_ that existed within her told her not to go through with this... but just as much of herself knew what was likely to happen if she didn't.   
"I have to enter last." Riku informed them quietly. "To seal the gateway."  
John was familiar with that. Not that he'd found himself capable of that sort of magic, but he knew the dynamics of it; when you opened a gateway, be it between worlds or simply two locations in the same realm, you had to make the effort to seal it if you didn't want it open for the rest of eternity. At least the stranger seemed to have that much together... but he still didn't like it. Not a bit of it.  
"One at a time, is it?" Kyrie merely guessed, her tone flat and void. That was how things went, really... the moment you needed a hand to hold onto, the rules were against it.  
"I would recommend it." Riku responded. "You'll... see why. Just be sure to move when you land."   
Well, that was... intriguing. Sounded like an order to be followed, though. She bit her lip and took a breath... this could be done. This had to be done. She looked again into the moving surface of glass and _something other_... then passed through without another thought.

"Landing" was nothing that she did. Spinning, melting, melding through a spectrum of sensation and somehow managing to wind up with her feet on solid ground, yes. It felt more like the ground beneath her tried to pull itself out from under--but at least it got her to stumble forward, effectively "moving" just as Riku had suggested.  
Good thing--seconds later she felt another body crash into hers, knocking them both to the ground. "Sorry." She heard Rodger mumble above her.  
She didn't have the chance to acknowledge him before a third body stumbled into them--with an "Oof!" that they recognized right away. As a collective lump, they braced themselves for a fourth to join their pile... but it never happened.  
Riku stood confidently behind, seeming slightly amused. He was too used to the shifts between worlds... or perhaps it had never affected him to begin with. Hard to remember... He shook his head with the thought, clearing his throat to give them motivation.  
John was quite obviously the one who should get up first, having landed on top... but he seemed least interested in the idea. Taint both different and familiar surrounded them, coming from all things he saw, smelled, touched, tasted... It was not Hell, no... but it was no less unnerving. When instinct says that the safest possible location is flat on the ground on top of one another... something is wrong. He would watch, though... they would all be careful. He lifted, giving a hand to the others below him.   
Kyrie was just glad to be able to breathe without straining again--for a moment. Upon closer inspection of their arrival point... breathing seemed hardly appropriate. She had hoped to see the strange and quiet beauty that she'd witnessed when she'd been in Traverse Town before... but it was gone. Worse than gone--it'd been slaughtered. The very _feel_ of the land hung in tatters, to say nothing of the visual representations of that essence. Something truly horrible had devastated _everything_, leaving the sky dark and the buildings partially (if not completely) destroyed. There _was_ no hotel anymore. No internal city walls. No more shops and hardly even what one would call skeletons of old houses remained. Were it not for the distinct _feeling_ the place contained, she'd never have known it to have ever been Traverse Town at all.  
Fire might have been _a_ culprit, at some point... but it was not alone. Ashes lay about the broken streets, but so did scattered debris bearing no burn marks. Too many shattered cobblestones bore markings that looked like dried blood.  
"It hasn't been that long..." she whispered. "Has it?"  
Riku had turned away, eyes trained on the distance so he didn't have to acknowledge their reactions. Traverse Town was never a home to him... but it was to Sora. "On this side, two years have passed since you've been here."  
So much about the whole situation was just... too cruel. Entirely too awful. Everything was gone... razed... beaten bloody and left in tatters...  
Her breath caught in her throat at one particular point in her field of vision. It looked like any other piece of building, at first... but she saw movement. She knew she did--and she was not alone in it. Motion caught all eyes expecting stillness, and they moved in together. The possibility of something moving that was not poised to kill them was slender, but if a glance at Riku's surprised expression was any indication... it was possible.   
Closer, mere meters away--and Kyrie ran. _No, no... Hyne, no... _She stopped in a crumpled kneel without thought in front of the broken man. It was all she had in her not to shout for her dad. It was... it had to be... it looked like him, but he wasn't... it didn't... "Leon!"  
His eyes wouldn't focus on her for a moment... and even when they did, it made no sense to see her there. He finally gave up, letting his heavy eyelids drop; but his heart sought her out, anyway. "Ky...rie..." he choked, remembering. "I thought... it was another... halluc-- I-I..."   
It was eerie. Too eerie in too many ways. Gray strands throughout his hair were bad enough, but... but the rest... Familiar and even more horrible, all at once. He'd bled, recently... been beaten, by the look of things. The sharp lumps in his arms, his legs... they'd looked to have been broken numerous times and never properly set... and still by the way his limbs were angled, there were bones broken anew. She shuddered to look into his distant eyes when they _could_ open, not knowing whether the fact that his eyes were both still there or that it really felt like one should be missing was what tore most at her stomach.  
Leon made every possible effort to focus again when more footsteps had come up and settled around him. Two forms he didn't know, couldn't afford to look for in his fading memory... And Riku... he knew he saw Riku... "What... have you... become..?" Perhaps he would have continued, but consciousness rolled out of his grasp.  
Horrors. Cruelly dulled, pressing wounds into the flesh, into the mind... Only stunned and frightened silence came from behind her; not that anything could or should have been said. It was all too sudden... too awful... too much... How she'd managed to get her own legs underneath her was a mystery she'd rather never ponder.   
It was awful. It was so, so _awful_. Details had ceased to be important long ago, but... but this one needed to be addressed. Rodger wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her toward him, turning her into a perfectly necessary embrace. He gave her a silent, strong hug--and felt her clutching weakly at the back of his shirt. He had to admit, he was quite amazed at her reserve... though he wasn't sure how good of a thing it was. Rubbing her back, he gave another squeeze. Nothing needed to be spoken; he had to take care of this with Riku. Nodding to John as he disengaged from her (taking a moment to hold her hand), it was clear that the two of them were going to take a moment's leave.  
John took over almost imperceptibly, a hand ghosting the curve of her hip to indicate that she should follow him. There was no argument, no hesitation... she needed to be removed, if only for a moment.

Rodger wasted no time in searching the larger pieces of debris for wood that could make decent splints. Hey, call him paranoid, but he'd taken to learning the art of survival since he'd gotten to know Kyrie. That... and it saved him from having to look at the man who looked exactly... exactly like...  
"If I may ask..." Riku interrupted softly, "Why did she react that way?"  
Should he tell him? He wondered how much the boy already knew... and what he ought to know. "It's not enough to react to something that disturbing?" he prodded softly to see where they stood.  
Riku tilted his head at the question. "It was far too emotional. For her."  
An interesting way to put it. Rodger took a moment to gather some strips of sturdy-looking paneling scattered about, forming his answer in his mind first. "He looks... he _is_, in some senses... exactly like her father. And he'd died in... similar enough circumstances."  
The boy swallowed. So... things were getting even more personal. Finding it pointless to press further, he began to help in the search for splints.

They walked for a while. Past crumbled walls and chunks of mortar that looked as if they'd absorbed the essence of the sheer color of blood long ago... John glanced back only once to gauge their distance, confident it was enough for the moment. If there was trouble, he would hear them... but Kyrie would not have to see what they needed to do.  
It didn't escape him how perfectly that Leon guy mirrored her old man. He knew bits and pieces of how he'd died, as well... but never directly asked about it. There didn't seem the need. Seeing her reaction, though... it was a more violent situation than he'd realized. The whole thing was... it was all so fucked up...  
"It's creepy." He spoke up, addressing the situation in general.   
"It is." She admitted softly. "And part of me would prefer not to leave."  
"But part would?"  
"Oh yeah." She shivered. Running away wasn't usually her "thing", but... it seemed damn good right about then. She knew of course that Leon had no real connections to her... but maybe it was just the way he looked, the memories that still played out in her dreams sometimes... She knew, too, it was Sora's fondness for him. Leon had been a teacher and a friend...   
"This is some sick shit." John agreed, quietly.  
She sighed raggedly, rubbing her eyes. "I think... I think I just need... to sit down for a moment."  
Seeing her hurt was not something he enjoyed. "I've got one better." Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms and started swinging her slowly from side to side. "We'll play Ky-toss."  
"Dick." She accused, trying to hide a smile.  
He was careful enough not to shift her stomach (rather certain that she was already bordering on nausea), but he kept swinging her. "Mmmmmaybe. That's not necessarily a _bad_ thing, now..."  
"I regret to inform you that trying to make me throw up isn't really going to make me feel any better about anything."  
"Yeah, well. It amuses me."  
She struck with the cold, calculated speed of an anacondaur--directly for his rib cage, where he was most defenseless from practiced tickles. He _would_ have merely dropped her on her ass right then had she not been hanging on so tight.  
It wasn't really a moment of pure bliss, or even of forgetting... but it was a help. It kept her moving on... and going back. "Thanks, babe."  
"Hey! You can't use my word!"  
She stuck her tongue out at him for that one.

By the time Kyrie and John had made their way back to the others, there were several pieces of wood ready and waiting to be lashed to the broken limbs... but Rodger and Riku were only looking down at the crippled, blessedly sleeping (or blacked out, more likely) body below. They'd have to re-set the bones... but he didn't look at all up to that. Not to mention his mental state... they had nothing to ease the pain in any way. Their limited Materia could do practically nothing for him, and without the ability to use magic... They all stood there, staring down at the battered body... feeling sick, pain-ridden, and helpless.  
"I can help him." Came an unexpected voice above the steady echoes of eerie silence.  
They turned to see a young woman walking toward them from a crumbled, dark alley, her pink dress long since tattered and grayed, her skin darkened with what might be a combination of soot and blood... but they didn't want to know. Regardless of the condition of her body, her eyes were young. Smiling. Gentle.  
There was just something... about that woman, striking Kyrie's heart... Like she _ought_ to know her from... somewhere... But, more importantly, the feeling imparted upon her was complete and utter trust. It could nearly border on devotion, should the situation be different...  
No matter. If she knew Leon, could care for him... "You're a friend, I assume?"  
The woman nodded. "I'll help him, don't worry." So reassuring, so honest and calm... She turned to Riku; instead of snarling, instead of being accusing... she nodded a greeting as though they were old acquaintances rather than old enemies. "You've come back."  
_So._ Kyrie kept to herself. _They know each other._ Maybe that was a good thing... maybe it meant the woman really was trustworthy...  
"Yes." He managed to respond, his voice trembling. He couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't really look at her...  
Again the woman smiled. "Don't worry, then. Leon will be okay. All of you, just keep going."  
Some part of Kyrie wanted to stay. A surprisingly large part felt the need to never leave that woman's side... like part of her was part of something so much... larger... something she'd touched and strove for, but never really--  
"Ky?" Rodger had noticed his wife's too-long pause... and maybe on some level he understood it.  
She blinked, swallowing and trying to ignore the distant but somehow familiar thoughts that she hadn't quite been able to consciously grasp. Yes, to move on... wherever they were going, they had to get there without wasting time. She turned away from the strange woman and followed, doing her best to push the whole experience out of her mind until she had the time to pick it apart.

Some alleys still had partial walls. Often they were composed of cracked stones, missing their top halves and looked as if one good sneeze would topple the whole thing, but it was just the slightest bit more "comfortable" to move around in a place where you might be able to shelter yourself behind something... somewhat "solid".   
They were headed toward a section that Kyrie had never been to, walking along a flow of drainage water. She could tell that they were behind what used to be the hotel from the cracked paint on the small remainders of wood left in place of an actual building, but beyond that...   
Riku stopped suddenly, a soft growl leaving his throat. He could feel the Darkness shift before anyone else--and worse, _it_ could feel _him_. "They know we're here, now..."  
"Heartless?" Kyrie inquired softly, hand already on her gunblade.  
"I hope so." Came the boy's cryptic response.  
There wasn't exactly time to call him out on that; the rest of them had begun to feel a shift in the air, as well. Cold and heavy, the ground seeming to sink just slightly beneath their feet... and the impending feeling of an indescribable kind of darkness began to wrap around them. While Kyrie knew it to be familiar... it was quite a bit stronger than it had been before.  
All weapons came out as the four of them made a ring, shoulder to shoulder, with shared instinct--all weapons but Riku's. It gained him a look from the gunblader at his right; certainly he didn't intend to stand back and do nothing, and she knew damn well his fragile body couldn't take hand-to-hand...  
He managed to surprise them. As the shadows moved and took shape around them, the youth cast his hand out--and in it, glittering from nowhere and then to solid form, was a most unusual sword. It looked to be formed from the sharpened wing of some demon; an idea that had Kyrie shuddering internally. The worst of it, though... was the eye above the hilt... That was _not_ the weapon of a trusted friend. Some part of Sora, deep within, cringed.  
No time. Never any time. Shadows began to run and fly toward them, and it was a situation that demanded the utmost attention.  
Even as the battle began, Kyrie's mind was a whir of agitation. _Oh, fuck. Already. Already!_ She ducked from the swipes of the flying Heartless as they gained color and form, darting forward to land a good strike across several at once. At least they were, for lack of a better term, "soft"--their flesh parted easily so she could strike through more than one at every move, a rather helpful situation to be in.  
Only a moment later, however, torn between watching herself and her comrades, she discovered that not _all_ of the Heartless were so soft. In fact, some of them were armed. And, worse... some of them seemed to have the ability and presence of thought to _disarm_. The harsh clang that pushed a line of agony from shoulder to fingertips combined with the sudden jerk of her arm outward and away from her body caused Eleison to slip straight out of her hand.  
There was no time to think about it--she darted backward instead of going straight on through, hoping to reach her weapon in a running arc _around_ the offending Heartless. Darting in a swift zig-zag like a cat, she rolled the last few yards toward her gunblade--and ran into something a bit larger and more solid. Time would never be granted to stop and make sense of things; the whirl of darkness and the increasing number of glowing eyes around her was all she needed to get her back to moving on her feet. Fuck her weapon and fuck fighting--if she was to survive this, she'd have to find a better way to do battle.  
There was no higher ground to speak of, but there _were_ those tiny partial walls. She used elbows and shoulders to knock the enemies out of her way as she ran toward the highest alley wall she could see, knowing it was a hopeless situation, knowing they were simply multiplying, closing in on her from all sides--  
To say some hidden instinct tickled her mind was not accurate. It would be truer to suggest that something straight from the heart of her reached up and slammed her head into a proverbial wall; _Call it._ Two words. Two words that felt like they made sense, even though they didn't. _Call it._  
She didn't see any other choice. She could feel cold breath at her neck, could clearly see dark shapes moving in to catch her the moment she reached that wall... Skidding to a stop, she turned. _Call it_, that internal voice had said. So, she held out her right hand. _Well? C'mon._  
The next instant found her clenching her teeth with a strong effort not to lose her footing. It _hurt_. It damn well _tore_ the tendons of her hands apart--at first. The scream was breathless, surprised and full of pain, turning almost too quickly into a gasp of sheer surprise. What rested comfortably in her grasp was... a Keyblade... She was quite a bit more surprised to see it there than the witnesses to the action.  
Riku had looked over when the bright flash of light erupted, fearing the worst--then gasped out of shock; the Keyblade! But then... then... Of course... of _course_ she could call it, could hold it. If she held Sora's memories, she held portions of his heart... "Open up your heart!" he yelled.  
That... meant nothing to her. But it was a trigger to Sora's memories--a door in her mind opened, revealing to her the mysteries of using the Keyblade. Her Materia spun wildly, and the blade moved in turn. No, she could never match the strength and experience of the true Keyblade Masters... but she didn't need quite that much. The Heartless continued to flow toward her in increasingly great, tall waves... but each one was torn to bits in the natural motions of the swift blade. By the time the creatures at the end of the waves had discovered what was going on, it was too late to save themselves. Momentum sped their downfall--the fabled Keyblade truly brought it about.  
Hey, wait. She had the Keyblade in one hand, yeah... but that left the other. Open. Empty.  
The tides turned in a vicious grin. She stalked steadily toward where Eleison lay, seeing John and Rodger taking care of as many of the Heartless around her as they could to help her motion. Breathing became more rhythmic, her muscles were warmed, rushing toward their peak performance... standing right above her weapon of choice, she began to wonder whether or not she'd be able to get it in hand to use in the first place.  
She needn't have worried; Riku did some damage for her, crossing right in front to slash away at the still-coming Heartless. As he became a momentary distraction, she quickly used a foot to toss the gunblade up to her hand, feeling at least several hundred times better than she had only moments ago. Double-bladed slaughter. "C'mon, you Heartless bastards." She growled under her breath, adrenaline pumping.  
The Heartless were focusing on _her_, sensing Sora's presence and drawn by the light gleaming off of the Keyblade. She couldn't let herself dwell on that fact, keeping herself constantly in motion. Thought process seemed to stop altogether; not in the way of falling into the perfect rhythm of battle, but more like... someone was watching her back but allowing her to use her body.  
She darted with precision between John's and Rodger's shots, leapt and ducked when Riku was pressed too close to avoid her entirely. Even the armed Heartless weren't safe; one blade would catch their weapon while the other went for major organs and arteries... if they had any.  
The clouds of dark figures had finally began to thin out as she found herself increasingly out of breath, her arms already aching. She pressed on in an odd sort of dance, a rhythm unto her own mind--and not one she consciously caught. Again, it was a battle drum from somewhere else that her ears refused to hear, but her heart pumped to it, her body moved to it like it was all the world. She found speed she was pretty damn certain she'd never had before, not to mention mild suggestions of skill tucked within a motion she hadn't expected, a slip of a Heartless that she was sure she wouldn't have seen let alone made use of before. It was all... surprisingly perfect. She wasn't merely whispered the answers, to to speak; she was learning them for herself.  
Even after all she'd been through, it was a weird feeling. Like a watchful guardian over her shoulder, telling her when to do something rather than what to do... and she began to lose herself to it, a little. Her body was slowly beginning to falter, the muscles aching vibrantly. Just at the moment when she felt that maybe, just maybe she might be able to meld with this strange energy that kept ghosting over her mind--it released her. Not _abandoned_, but... seemed to set her down carefully.  
Too bad it did not do so literally; she fell to her knees on the stone, panting... but grinning. They'd done it, destroyed the small army of Heartless that had attacked. It felt... pretty damn good. She had tried to force her Materia to pace themselves during the process, holding out her strength for as long as she could... and she assumed what energy was left in the orbs was the only reason for her consciousness at that point. Sure her legs had given out, but... big deal.  
Oh, wait. It actually was a bit of a big deal. But only when the extremely large and desperately frightening Heartless rose from the ground. A... Nightmare, was it? Wasn't that what she remembered it being, from Sora's memory? Yeah. Well. Super.  
She couldn't get up. She couldn't so much as lift her arms at that point--and the others knew it. They hadn't been blind to her dazzling and slightly beyond unusual performance only seconds ago; whatever had happened had been important, but it had taken its toll on her. They'd have to handle the rest on their own.  
Riku had seen Sora in her motions. Some of the two-handed sweeps she'd used to disarm those Heartless... he'd taught the boy himself. They were still a little meek, sure. Not as swift and as confident as the Keyblade Master's himself, but... _there_ just the same. It hurt, for a moment. Knowing without doubt that he could _not_ dwell anywhere near that thought, he rushed toward the Nightmare that was pulling itself from the ground, preparing to attack.  
Rodger and John followed suit close behind. Yes, that had been... stunning. Their similar curiosity had been piqued if not had candy waved in front of it and then hidden away cruelly--but the time to fight was not over, and one of their group was down for the count. They had to protect her as she rested while taking care of the threat... simple, right?  
Not entirely as simple with a giant Heartless. And _certainly_ not when said Heartless had a massive striking range and the habit of summoning balls of scary-looking dark energy. Unfortunately for Kyrie, between the overuse of her body and the overload of her mind, she seemed to have done a little... blacking out. What energy remained in the Materia seemed to keep her kneeling rather than falling forward, but that was hardly the most helpful thing. She needed to catch her breath, to regain her strength... but that would probably involve eating. Not really a thing they may be able to afford to do for... some time.

She "came to" with a bit of a start, a hand waved in front of her face. Feeling as though her head were weighted rather unfairly, she fought to crane her gaze up. It was John, panting but grinning like a maniac. Behind him was Rodger, looking just as tired and damn near as proud of himself. The half-devil made the inquiry. "Alright there, Ky?"  
She actually took a moment to check. All limbs in order... all senses seemed to be working... Materia spinning lazily as they slowly regained their lost energy... and as far as she knew, she was conscious. "Yeah. Sure."  
Her husband smirked at her response, holding out his hand to help her up. It was then that she noticed... no Keyblade. She looked up, instinctually finding Riku a few yards away, surveying the area to see if the Heartless has dropped anything of use. "The Keyblade..?" she began, tentatively.  
The boy looked up, not understanding her question until she started uncurling her empty hand and wincing slightly at the muscle soreness within it. "It... returns, when you're done with it." He answered.  
Well. Made sense. In it's own... weird way. Standing on her own, she made a conscious effort not to walk for a moment; her legs were still a little less than stable, nevermind how heavy her gunblade felt as she tried to slide it back into place at her side. Good thing Heartless didn't leave a mess. She was just getting around to fumbling the handle straps closed when she felt a tremble in her legs. Rather odd, seeing as how she thought she'd braced them so well. She looked up to crack a dry joke--instead, she saw the looks on the faces in front of her.  
There was trembling again... but it certainly didn't belong to her legs. The whole ground was shaking, vibrating... and it wasn't an earthquake.  
Only Riku didn't look remotely worried; instead, he appeared remarkably angry. "Not now." He growled between gritted teeth. "It's too soon."  
That was all Kyrie knew before something very akin to sleep--but lacking the comfort and warmth--overtook her. Not darkness, not light, not even in-between and certainly not of substance... but whatever it was, it enveloped her consciousness without offering either a warning, nor an escape.

Swirling... dizzy... sightless... weightless... but not... not... _here_... was it..?   
Instantly, Kyrie was conscious--awake, but... nowhere. It was very much like a dream... if she could have believed a dream could feel so real and genuinely insane at the same time. She felt her body, but it was... distant. As if, maybe... it wasn't her own. Against something..? Hanging somewhere..?  
An icy voice in the back of her mind spoke up, destroying her thought process altogether. _"You are not the Lion..."_   
The voice itself was almost to be expected in a dreamscape... but what it had said, the way it had spoken... No, she couldn't continue to tell herself it was only a dream. She was too damned awake for that. But, the... lion? And then it hit her: Squall was called the Lion of Balamb, by some. With that realization, finally, came warmth. _No. No, I'm not..._  
_"But you are connected to him."_  
How... odd. This voice... felt so safe, in its own way. Wrong for her, but right for the body it seemed to inhabit--that _she_ also seemed to inhabit... _Yes..._  
_"Aah. You are the Lion's Cub."_  
Normally having been called a cub would have caused a bit of a snarl... but the voice in her mind was so delicate and kind that she understood its meaning to be innocent. Beyond that... this voice, it... knew Squall..? _Who are you?_  
If an answer did come, it was drowned out by the painful influx of all senses and realization hitting at once--she was not asleep, not dreaming, and certainly not herself. She had no control over the aching and half-numb body she seemed to be inhabiting, instead merely forced to take stock of the experience. There was a smell, there... an awful, rotting smell mixed with cold metal. And maybe, if she focused, she could smell something resembling leather.  
Or was that blood? No, she was tasting that... bitter blood, blood that wasn't fresh but wasn't going to dry up and go away quickly, either.   
Eyes opened before she was ready for them to, the dim light of her new surroundings seeming to start whoever she as currently inhabiting into a panic. She felt a heart that was not her own beat frantically--and that was just about when her own skidded into a dead stop. A form had moved in front of her...  
It was... _Seifer_! "I'm sure you can imagine what happens now." He sneered, Hyperion resting in a cocky position on his shoulder.  
She could feel the warming hatred burning through a chest not her own--and then, with the voice, she understood. Squall. "What do you want?" he demanded calmly.  
The blonde cut to the chase. "Tell me what SeeD is. Edea demands to know."  
_Edea... Sorceress Edea?_ She heard her dad's voice respond with as much puzzled hesitation as she felt. "Don't you already know?"  
"I'm not a SeeD." Seifer spat, drawing a little closer. "There must be some kind of secret you're given when you become a SeeD!"  
"There's nothing." Squall returned, seeming more annoyed with the questions than anything. "Even if there were, you think I'd tell you?"  
The blonde jolted forward, pressing Hyperion far too sharply against his prisoner's throat. "You're on my 'tough-nut-to-crack' list." He grinned viciously. Cocky, enjoying the slight flash of pain and nervousness in his rival's eyes. "Didn't think you'd talk that easily."  
Had Kyrie been able to flinch, she certainly would have. She'd never seen her father's eyes so full of venom... malice, cruelty... And to _Squall_ of all people..?  
Trying to ignore the fear that phrase--and the way he'd spoken it--inspired, the cold-hearted brunette found a cockiness of his own. It was the one that always infuriated the other boy, causing their battles most of the time. "Geez, I'm honored."  
For a moment, those blue-green eyes wavered... but not enough. Suddenly there was neither blue nor green in them--a split second of slitted yellow appeared before his voice lowered dangerously. "So here's a little somethin' for ya."  
It was then that Kyrie panicked a little herself, trapped inside her dad's body. She'd known there was torture at the prison... knew there were so many rumors and all of them horrible, but...  
_"I'll protect you, Cub..."_ she heard weakly in the background, as if that same strange, cold voice itself were struggling with all its might just to speak to her. It was a voice like no other she'd ever heard; airy but not external... more internal, but not her own. Delicate, cautious... powerful... so very unknowable.  
Images, sounds--everything began to blur, then. She _knew_ there was more to the situation... and she _knew_ she should be more concerned about that voice, about what was happening... but it was so easy to lay back and disconnect...

Vague pictures flashing across the darkness... of a tiny island, somewhere... once filled by the laughter of children... once happy and part of another world... torn apart by choices... destroyed by darkness...

It was so much like waking from a dream that she nearly forced her body to jerk when her eyes opened far too calmly on their own accord. _Her_ eyes again, her body... but it felt a little more foreign than it had before. A mild distance, as if in a fever. It lasted only a moment, but it was so vague but intense at the same time--  
"Ky?" she heard softly, long before her eyes focused on the present.  
She was certainly _sitting_, she realized as her eye line fell upon a familiar pair of well-worn red leather pants. That alone made her smirk. "Yeah." She responded, not quite certain why she felt the need to answer him that way.  
John looked a little less than entirely easy-going. "We don't know what the hell happened. Just kinda... woke up here, but... you were out of it for a minute."  
Astoundingly clear of mind with another almost unsensed shift, she stood--taking note of how perfectly normal her body felt. No aches, no strain... no tiredness at all. His words held a weight over her, however. "'Out of it'?"  
He paused a moment, making eye contact as if trying to assure himself of something. "Your eyes were open, but... you, uh... weren't home." It wasn't that he was trying to hide anything. Never, for any reason. But somehow, instinct told him that he shouldn't make mention of that... odd glow in her eyes. It'd only lasted a split second, just long enough to confirm he wasn't seeing things, before it died out completely. Then there was the speaking... languages that resembled nothing he'd ever heard, spoken with such ease... He dared not mention that Rodger had felt the need to remove himself from the room altogether, too frightened and upset and generally just _disturbed_ to stay and watch... None of those things would be helpful to her. None of them ultimately _mattered_ if she was okay.  
She blinked, looking away before she could allow a panicking fear to clasp her. They didn't know what was going on. And the assumption that Riku's mysterious words before the blackout happened (_"It's too soon..."_) was related... The whole damn thing was simply unsettling. Not that any of that came as a surprise.  
"Better now?" Rodger's words from the doorway to the connecting office distracted such thoughts for the moment.  
Only then did she take a moment to inspect their surroundings. It wasn't the house, as she'd initially assumed. In fact, it looked like... one of those abandoned offices in the Presidential Estate. That thought inspired a questioning gaze thrown her husband's direction.  
He could only shrug, inviting himself over to inspect her for himself. "I wish I knew. Anything. About anything."  
Well, at least that summed up the entire experience for all of them. Oddly enough the first question to pass along Kyrie's mind was not as unexpected as she thought it would be. "Does Vincent know we're here?"  
John made a mocking sound with a grin on his face. "Just waiting for his moment to jump out of the shadows."  
She didn't necessarily feel like denying his assessment of the situation. It was more than likely both amusing and true. "We literally 'just got back', then?"  
Rodger nodded. "It's only been about ten minutes since the two of us woke up."  
Kyrie nodded, trying to think. Certainly even in an abandoned office, free of any furniture except chairs no one used anymore, there were security cameras. Vincent had to be aware. "Suppose I'd better get to his office, then."  
"And we should do what?" the half-devil tried to make his voice sound uninterested... but a hint of worry leapt from within. He didn't like the idea of them being separated...  
"Get some food." She responded without missing a beat. "I'm fucking starving."

She had to admit, even she was a little bit worried about her plan. Just because it _looked_ like the estate didn't mean it actually was--but there was only _one_ quickly moving Kiros in all the universe. He didn't even see her, and she was incredibly grateful for it. It was Vincent's office she had to get to, to tell him--  
Two steps away from his door, and it already opened for her. He was standing on the other side with a look even more blank than his usual to greet her. Once she was inside, safe from the rest of the building and the door locked behind her, he finally spoke. "I tried to watch the security footage."  
Well, that was... interesting. "And..?"  
He walked over to the far wall, well beyond his desk, digging through a stack of small disks that he'd already tested to try and work out the "little problem" he'd encountered. "I was watching the live monitor, and saw the three of you... _materialize_." Finding the proper disk, he slid it into the almost invisible slot on the bare wall space beside it. Instantly a small portion of wall slid open to reveal a single replay monitor, playing the disk. The video was playing at high speed... but there was no sign of them ever materializing. In fact, according to the time stamp, they'd been there, motionless and on the floor, all day long.   
Kyrie couldn't stifle a shudder. Obviously that hadn't been the case... And he was looking at her as if she could answer any of his questions. Not the cold interrogation glare she got when she had done something specifically to annoy him or to be funny, but... something altogether more raw and... worried. It was not within either of their ranges of experience. None of it. He'd known what he'd seen; years of such work, before and after many centuries inbetween, had tempered his mind for details. One moment, they weren't there--and the next they were on the floor. Not so, said the security disk. The disk he'd rushed down the hall for, torn out of the recorder prematurely just to confirm because he hadn't thought it possible to blink and have people laying there...  
He shook his head dismissively when she could offer him nothing in terms of an explanation. "You're all alright. That's the important thing."  
...Odd. But yes, she supposed she did see his point. "How... how long has it been since I called you..?"   
His expression remained unmoving. "That was just this morning."   
Okay, they were getting somewhere. "And now it's..?"  
"1:37 in the afternoon."  
She nodded, still none of it making sense. Time was so fickle between worlds... she'd known that already. It was a memory enough to clench her fist--sending a white-hot sliver of pain straight up to her shoulder. She looked down at her palm, the one that had held the Keyblade; blood. There wasn't much of a wound, but there was blood.  
Vincent said nothing and wasted no time. Every office was equipped with a small medical kit, and he found himself grateful for Laguna's insisted caution. Not a word between then, the ex-Turk was quick and efficient, cleaning and wrapping the wound with nothing spilled and nothing wasted. A perfect wrap, like a surgeon's; he hadn't lost his touch even with the claw. In fact, it served rather nicely as a pair of scissors.  
To speak of what had just happened seemed... a mistake. To ask her of the wound, where she'd been, what she'd done... it simply didn't seem right, much as he _wanted_ to ask and _wanted_ to know. And so he turned to subjects a little less guarded. "I'm sure Cloud will be looking for a rematch for quite some time if you'd care to work out some aggression."  
The man was a saint... in his own extremely weird way. It was a comforting subject change. "It would more than likely make for more aggression at this point. But I'm hoping to improve with practice."  
A good answer, he had to admit. Simply... not out loud.  
The next words were ones she hadn't actively been thinking, let alone meant to say... but they were spoken long before she realized the truth in them. "I worry about Cloud, y'know?"   
"_You_ worry about _him_?" Vincent couldn't help the quirk in his lips at the very idea.  
She noticed, giving him a somewhat nasty grin of her own. "Someone has to."  
"I suppose so." He confirmed almost seriously.  
"He could use a companion." She offered, nearly distracted.  
A barely real chuckle escaped before he could stop it. He thought, instantly, of the Honeybee Inn...  
She got the distinct impression of what his mind wandered to, even if she didn't know the details. "Not like _that_. Necessarily. Just... a dog or something."  
"A dog may be too much." He countered with mild amusement.  
"We should get him a cat, maybe. A big one. A guard-cat!" she laughed quietly to herself at the very idea. "Like Rufus."  
--Wait. Wait a second. That... that was odd. How'd she..? He'd never told her things like that. Neither had Cloud. And not even in Sephiroth's memories did she... she was certain that she never could have...  
Vincent realized that fact, as well. His eyes were wide with the idea, actually... if not a little startled. "And how..?"  
"I don't know." She whispered... afraid. Trying to hold it to herself, but... she could not deny a fear racing through her.

* * *

Will any of this ever make sense! I hope so. I think so. It's... going to get a lot more complicated from here on out, though. And look, a really long chapter! Maybe to make up for how long this took... or maybe to get you used to long chapters that make no sense. Yay!  
If you'd like to be e-mailed when I update, drop me a line with whatever story/stories/website you'd like me to inform you of. 


	8. Chapter 8

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?  
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before any plot detail on _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.  
**_GREAT BIG STORY-RELATED NOTE:_** A lot of of this story was "planned" (as much as I _can_ plan anything with Kyrie) well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out. At this point, I've almost completely spoiled myself as to plot points of the game (yay spoilers!)... but I'm rather planning to stay with the original direction this story was going in, in the first place. Therefore, there _will_ be references to _Kingdom Hearts 2_, but... generally don't worry about me spoiling anything for you. I guess that makes this AU. Dammit.

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart  
Chapter 8  
By Orin Drake

A rare uncomfortable silence encompassed the room. Kyrie found herself unable to make eye contact as she searched for a _reason_, for an _answer_ to why she'd known Rufus' name, let alone details... _That's_ what got to her. Just a name, or even the fact that he had a big cat as a pet, wouldn't have bothered her half as much as...   
She shook her head, but the image wouldn't leave. A young blonde in a white suit, standing on what could only be Shin-Ra grounds... she could _see_ him when she closed her eyes, his smirk. The way he flipped his hair back with an arrogant twinkle in his eye. She could even _hear_ his voice at the very vague border of her senses.   
There was _no_ way she should know any of that. No _explanation_. Even that short time of seeing Sephiroth's memory hadn't yielded a thing like that...  
Vincent saw her reaching frantically for an answer. He wanted to offer help, a comfort of some kind... but he was unable. It had thrown him just as much as it had her... if not more. Problem being... _he_ was finding small bits of his own memory returning due to her words... and he wasn't sure he liked it.   
"We should be going home." She murmured, her voice barely audible. She might not understand what was going on... but she knew enough about Vincent's silence. She didn't give him so much as a chance to respond; turning, she hit the unlock quickly with her thumb and fled. Maybe it was not a retreat so much as an attempt to save them both memories better off left behind--but she was in no frame of mind to figure it out.  
He had every intention of stopping her, calling after or following... but he didn't. He couldn't. Fist clenched helplessly at his side, he let her go.

She wasn't surprised to find John and Rodger in the same abandoned office she'd left them in. In any other circumstance, they'd have been skipping off with plenty of entertainment to be had at everyone else's expense; but the normal circumstances did not apply.  
Maybe they could sense her self-imposed numbness the moment she walked in the door--and maybe that was why they didn't immediately rush to greet her. "He doesn't know, either." She announced, wincing internally at how... hollow her tone suddenly seemed. _It wasn't that big of a deal... was it?_  
That was not something her husband could ignore. "You okay, Ky?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Considering." It wasn't a lie. It wasn't even a half-truth. She felt a little too lost in confusion to give much thought to trying to hide anything, firstly.  
John opened his mouth to make a slightly less than cordial demand for an answer--until Rodger bolted past him with a glance that effectively silenced the half-devil. Whatever this was, she'd tell them when she could. They really had to believe that. The brunette stepped up to his wife and gave her shoulders a casual squeeze. "What now?"  
And then it hit her, what would make her feel better. "I thought I told you two to get some food, dammit."

Past lunch time and still without anyone to give him an excuse to leave his shop, Cloud gave a bored mumble to the back wall he'd just rearranged for the change in season. His ringing cell was a particular blessing, especially with Vincent's name on the caller ID screen. That one never failed to be entertaining. "Everyone is late." He greeted, already heading to the front to temporarily close up.   
"There is a reason." Vincent assured quietly. "I believe you could..." He trailed off for lack of exactly what he was asking. "I think you should talk to her and try to find out what's going on."  
The other participant in the conversation very nearly pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it. Clearly there was no doubt who the "her" was--it was practically Kyrie's official code name. "Why didn't _you_ talk to her?"   
"I... I couldn't... I didn't want to..." A sigh. "I don't know, Cloud."  
The blonde was on the other end of the phone in shock. Vincent never stammered... he never paused without meaning to. This was... odd. Odd even before frightening. "What do you think I can do about this..?"  
It was a decent question; one he'd been wrestling with himself for the minutes before finally giving in and calling. "I'm not sure. But I believe... you would be of more help to her than I would."  
"I'll come up with something, then." He promised. Vincent hung up promptly... but he found his own hand shaking a little as he flipped his phone shut. Something... something very bad was happening.

They ventured in silence toward the station--but not with the intent of catching a train. That seemed the furthest thing from Kyrie's mind as she gestured toward one of the smaller food vendors, one with most excellent Galbadian sandwiches and pastries for a much better deal than one could get in Galbadia... at least, that's what the kind older gentleman behind the counter always told them.  
Upon finding an out-of-the-way bench upon which to try and fill their already heavy stomachs, there was again a stretch of silence. Neither boy questioned why she didn't quite seem to want to go back to the house right away. Neither did Kyrie herself, really. It just... wasn't the direction she felt that she wanted to go in. For once, a speechless, nearly thoughtless moment seemed most appropriate.  
Even Kyrie had to admit, however... it didn't feel quite _right_. They were never _that_ sort of silent with one another... least of all her. Something beyond her understanding had caused a rift; not between herself and Vincent, but between herself and... everything else.  
She was not hungry. She wasn't the least bit interested in food. But she didn't know when her body would next need the store of energy. Even though her Materia felt fine, her body rested... the very idea of what was illusion and what was reality wasn't one she wanted to think on.  
It didn't matter. One sitting at each side, her sentinels guarded her instinctually. Caring nothing for who might be gawking into the shadows, they found themselves each with an arm around her, waiting. Waiting for... whatever they were supposed to be waiting for.

"I came up with a solution." Cloud announced, stepping inside Vincent's office uninvited.  
At least that raised the former Turk's spirits a bit... not that he'd admit so. The bright blue Mako eyes held more devious mirth than concern. "And that would be..?"  
"I'll take her out on my new bike." He announced, somewhat proud of himself.  
There was a long, long pause from the raven-haired man. "And why, exactly, are you so willing to risk her life on that... thing?"   
He huffed humorously with Vincent's apparent insistence that _his_ life was less important and therefore not worth worrying about. "She hasn't gotten to ride it yet." He hadn't realized just how amusing the statement was until after it had come out of his mouth. "Besides... she could use the chance to forget for a little while."  
It was the unspoken portion that made the man react, not bothering at all to hide his responding grin. He knew Cloud better than that; he was far from a perfect gentleman, but he was trusted enough. Besides... if push came to shove, Vincent always had blackmail. "Be careful." He gave his permission to the insane notion. Truth be told... it wasn't such a bad idea.

There was a collective breath held as the Jet they normally took on the way back to the house pulled into the station... and by then a little of Kyrie's weighted stomach had abated. "Something tells me I shouldn't leave yet." Was all she offered. It was all she _knew_, and even then... even then, the thought of going back into that house, knowing how easily Riku could find her...   
But that wasn't fair. Not really. He'd asked for her help, and she'd accepted. Then... what had happened afterward? Certainly they hadn't actually accomplished... anything. That was the maddening part... _something_ had happened before they'd gotten the chance to... to make anything...  
And then John caught unmistakable spikes of blonde hair in the corner of his eye. Granted Cloud was walking from the other end of the station and it would take a moment to reach them, but that was all the more reason to act fast. Yes, bad shit was going on. And yes, questions needed answers before they became maddening... but they were back. And that crazy blonde was still in on Kyrie's "big birthday celebration". The one that wasn't happening, that they absolutely were not planning for.  
Rodger felt the almost imperceptible tap on his forearm, immediately getting the indication that he shouldn't make a big deal out of looking in the direction John seemed as if he were trying to avoid. He couldn't see anything at first, not having the half-devil's incredible vision--but then Cloud was pretty hard to miss as he passed a number of people and came into the open. Just as he was about to try and come up with a plan to divert his wife's attention, John seemed keen to play the asshole.  
"Would you go get me a drink?" he asked Kyrie in the sweetest possible voice, leaning up against her. "_Please_?"   
Obviously... something was up. Not that she wasn't completely willing to play along to take her mind off of things. "Your legs broken there, devil-boy?"  
"Not yet." He continued to use his sweet voice, rubbing up against her like a cat and earning a shaking head from Rodger.   
"They will be." She promised teasingly.  
"But _after_ you get me a drink?" John had just about mastered those great big blue puppy dog eyes...  
"Fine." Kyrie sighed. "Just... stop doing that. It's creepy. What do you want?"  
Creepy, huh? Well, just for that. "Lemonade." The innocence fell into a grin.  
She stared blankly at him for several seconds. "You do realize that's about five trains down from us right now."   
"It's not _that_ far." He went right back into his innocent sweetness routine, almost making himself choke.  
"You bastard." She accused, unable to help an amused smirk. Turning to Rodger, she shrugged. "And I suppose you want something on the _other_ side of the station?"   
"Nah." He dismissed lightly. "Not until you get back. Then I'll have thought of what you should have gotten me."  
With a light smack to the back of both of her boys' heads, she got up and began walking. Yeah, sure. Like it was any secret Cloud was present. She could feel it when he was in the same roo--  
That was when she _forced_ her thought process to stop. If she went any further, if she'd allowed her brain to finish, she'd have had to admit to... too much. Too much of the past, too many memories. And too many Jenova cells. Lemonade. The world could be lemonade for a while.

Cloud watched Kyrie walk off long before he'd gotten over to the pair looking at him with mildly amused expressions. He didn't really require an explanation for... well, anything. Not anymore. He thought he might as well come right out with the idea. "Would you two mind if I borrowed her for a couple of hours?"  
The boys looked at each other with an astounding supply of unspoken jokes. John was lucky enough to have been the one to compose himself first; enough to respond, anyway. "Depends on how she's coming back."  
Rodger gave him an elbow jab, chuckling darkly. "Hey, if it's a couple of hours."  
Cloud smirked. "I thought it might be a good time to drop my birthday gift on her."  
Ah. The brunette nodded thoughtfully. Not a bad idea. "Hopefully it'll fit, then."

Kyrie returned _far_ earlier than expected with a lemonade in each hand--just in case. Coming upon the three so obviously "not talking about her", she tried her best not to pay any attention. Wordlessly handing off John's requested beverage (to which she got the super-sweet grin again) and then the same to Rodger if only to keep him on the same sugar level so as not to give either one of them an advantage over the other in terms of hyperness, she then turned to Cloud. In a kind of flat sarcasm only she seemed capable of, she remarked, "Had I only known you were coming, I'd have gotten you one, too."   
He shook his head, trying not to let his lips betray his amusement. "Would you like to step out for a little while?"  
The shock of the question gave her a mild pause--but her natural tendency to tease him overcame it quickly. "With who?"   
His eyes narrowed in humor. "With an attractive blonde."  
"Oh, hell, sure! Where?" she made a distinct show of looking around like an over-excited puppy for said blonde.  
"Just follow me, alright?" he gave up with a smile and a sigh.  
She gave a glance back to Rodger and John, as if to ask if that was alright... or, more, if she would be safe and not suddenly pounced with too-early birthday bullshit. The two of them gave her smiles and waves... which told her only that it was alright, but nothing in the way of what awful surprises to expect. "Catch you two soon, then." She promised, a little more sincerely than usual. "I'm gonna get me a hot blonde... somewhere."   
Cloud's overdramatic sigh almost echoed off the high ceiling. That's how she knew everything was okay.

After a few minutes of walking down a hallway that even she didn't think she'd used before, she couldn't keep the curiosity to herself. "So... where would you happen to be leading me?"  
"Just... out, for a little while." He posed, false innocence continuing.  
She was more than willing to play along. At least she knew she was assured to be entertained. Of course, that didn't mean she had to be quiet about it. "There are no poles or table dances involved, right?"  
He rolled his eyes, actually trying not to laugh at the completely unexpected question. "Fine. How about a ride on that motorcycle I found parked in the hallway, outside my door a few months ago?"  
_...Ooooooohhhh._ That was certainly beyond her expectations. "Really?"  
He couldn't help a chuckle at what sounded like contained excitement. Half of his mission--to draw her out of her thoughts and allow her to relax for the barest moment--was already successful. "Well, you did buy it for me. I though you might appreciate a little run out in the plains."  
"Hyne would I." She admitted instantly. "I don't think I have quite the appropriate wardrobe, however..." she trailed off more due to his change in expression than an actual end to her thoughts. What did that satisfied smirk mean..?   
"I came into possession of a leather ensemble that may fit." He announced as innocently as he could.  
Oh, that... wonderful bastard. Although... "Yeah, but... who wore it before me and why?"  
That was a good question to ask. "Alright, fine. Happy Birthday." He relented, assuring her that it wasn't a second-hand piece of clothing.  
They walked on, Kyrie finding herself extremely grateful... for a number of reasons. Well, hey. Leathers. She could give John a run for his money. The thought barely allowed her to control a dark string of laughter just before Cloud came to a halt in front of what looked to be the last office door before an exit.   
"It's in there." He informed her. "Get changed and we'll go."  
She threw him an all too cocky (not to mention sloppy) salute, then darted into the office without a word. Oh hell yes.  
The blonde only shook his head. Never in his life did he think _he_ would be _saluted_. Only Kyrie had that audacity... Kyrie and Zack.  
That thought left him numb and wide-eyed for quite a bit longer than he cared to understand. It's not as if he hadn't thought them similar in pure, brutal cockiness from time to time, but... it was... _different_, this time. It was in trying to figure out _how_ it felt different that he got caught, unable to make the sense necessary to understand... anything.  
He became instantly grateful when Kyrie emerged from the office; the first reason being that he got what was sure to be an entertaining interruption to his thought process. The second being... more unexpected. He never could say that he'd considered her a sexual object. Not that he didn't see her attraction, but... it was never like _that_. In that leather number, though... he knew at least someone else would be unable to deny appreciation.   
She seemed to be thinking the exact same thing with the sparkling (and somewhat diabolical) expression on her face. The office was another unused, generally unfurnished room... except for the full-length mirror, which she suspected Cloud to have likely put there himself if only for the little present unveiling. If anything would wipe that dark look of bored superiority off of Vincent's face, it was the black leather ensemble she'd gratefully received. Not that the other males in her life wouldn't appreciate it as well... not that _she_ didn't appreciate it. The leather jeans were surprisingly soft, hugging her legs but not cutting off circulation, allowing her to quite easily secure Eleison's sheath to her thigh. The jacket was her favorite part, though--form-fitting, one zip up the front, and lots of buckles. She must have inherited Squall's unspoken adoration for buckles. And, very tastefully, a small red Bloodcross rested on the right shoulder. "This is very kick-ass, Cloud."  
Now there was a proper thank you. "I'm glad you approve."

There was definitely a different feeling on the back of an incredibly fast bike than there was sitting on a train and watching the landscape flash by. Even the Jet's superior speed paled; though that was likely because one couldn't feel the wind threatening to rip one's face apart if a slightly higher speed were reached.  
Not that she could find it in herself to complain. The experience of riding across the somewhat barren landscape of the Esthar continent was a miraculous and joyful thing. She was also quite glad that Cloud obviously knew how to handle the machine; as much as he enjoyed feeling her arms tense around him when he made jumps, quick changes in direction and skidding stops, he never actually _scared_ her or made it difficult to hold on--something she was quite glad about.  
It was a damned good thrill for him, too. He hadn't had a decent bike in... well, centuries, he supposed. (Give or take, due to memory.) He finally stopped the roaring beast in the shade of a small cliffside to take a moment's break from dust and engine noise, liking the sound of it powering down almost as much as he enjoyed the smooth starting growl. "This was a very good gift." He called behind him, ears taking their sweet time to adjust to the sudden silence.  
"Yes, it was." She agreed, wondering if she'd ever get used to stillness again. That, and whether or not it was safe to finally untangle her hands from around his waist. "One good turn and all that."  
He laughed, recalling exactly why he was pretty certain he'd received such a gift in the first place: that red collar John never seemed to be without. _Exactly_ what had transpired between that first meeting and taking note of how reserved the boy was, and several days later when he walked around like he seemed to own the place... well, he didn't need to _know_. But it involved that collar for certain. He waited until she withdrew her hands, able to sit back and enjoy the solid earth beneath for a few moments, before he dropped the kickstand and dismounted.  
There was nowhere to go. There was no one watching. It was only them, their friendship... and his other "mission". He unceremoniously sat on the dusty ground in the shade, leaning up against the bike to stare out at the landscape. To see Esthar so far away was actually a little... comforting. It reminded him of the rest of the world without leading him into the panic of having to save it. He started speaking without really knowing what he was going to say. "I'm not sure exactly where Midgar used to be... but it looked a lot better from a distance. Not that that's saying much."  
_Midgar..._ She recognized the name from memories not of her own. As she climbed off the bike and sat beside him, flashes of a dark, desolate, filthy city came to mind; completely opposed to the bright and clean futuristic visage of Esthar.  
He watched her carefully from the corner of his eye as she looked out over the landscape. Slightly haunted was the only way he could have described her eyes... but then, they'd always been that way. It almost made him decide not to go through with Vincent's request to discover what was wrong.  
She knew, though. She'd known the whole time; this wasn't just a ride for fun. "What do you want to know?"  
Straight to the heart of the matter, as usual. It didn't come as entirely unexpected, to put it lightly--something that made his lips quirk the slightest bit. "I don't know what to ask." He admitted. Unmasked honesty only deserved more of the same.   
"Neither do I." She bit back a sigh at the extreme amount of knowledge she seemed to lack. About anything. Everything. Always.  
He turned slightly, watching even more closely. "What are _you_ searching for?" he tried another tactic.  
Her smile was necessarily harsh... bitter, maybe... but it was not to last. "I'd like to say peace of mind... but I'm not sure about that."  
"Good answer." He relented.  
She chuckled at his response, somehow feeling incredibly glad to be alone with him, out in the middle of nowhere. "Where are those carefree days, huh?"  
It was gentle and sing-song, the way she'd asked... but he was pretty sure he knew better. He could point out those "carefree days" for himself; with a decent idea of similar experiences involved.  
Fifteen... when all was different and innocent. For all of them... but mostly for the two of them. Yes, life was a little lonely... closed off... but still innocent. Not being part of... all this shit...  
It wasn't hard at all to tell that she was reigning her emotions in. Probably thinking the same thing he was... maybe worse. He'd spent a lot of time simply trying to keep her as a casual acquaintance, at arm's length... but, having been around her for so long, he'd taken a liking to her.  
And then... he'd noticed things. Parallel things. Resemblances. Not exact, of course, but... close enough. The essence of these things were the same. She was a lot stronger than he'd been... but she'd been through quite a bit more in some senses, with her mind... somewhat in tact. Enough.   
She had a bit of Tifa's essence in her, too. Though Tifa could grate on nerves when her will was strong, Kyrie cut straight through the nerves and into the bone. Never saw her coming. That much was amusing; Tifa made a show of making absolutely certain everyone saw her coming. They just didn't happen to know she was a thousand times more powerful than she looked. Kyrie bothered with very little show, managing an ample amount of power.  
Vincent wasn't the only one to have noticed that she had a Turk's audacity to her, either. A little more conscience, perhaps, but nothing was to stand in her way. It was simply not to be tolerated.  
Cloud shook his head, realizing he hadn't responded--too lost in his own mind as used to be the case far too often. At least he'd gotten a little better about it. "Was being oblivious better than knowing too much?" he wondered out loud... immediately unsure of whether or not he was just hurting the situation.  
What was it like, she wondered... when almost everything you've ever known and loved was gone? She didn't want an answer, though. And she sure as hell didn't wish to ask. She decided she liked his question a lot better. "I can honestly say that I don't know." She began, unconsciously pulling her arms up and around her torso with what seemed to be a change in temperature. "What about knowing your own thoughts and intentions but not letting anyone else in on it?"  
He really couldn't help but feel a little... shut out all of a sudden. Maybe she hadn't meant it that way... in fact, it was highly unlikely she'd meant to shove and seemingly keep him away like that, but... hm. It reminded him of another he just happened to still see every day. And he certainly had never stopped trying to crack _that_ bastard's shell... He grinned with a little bit of Zack still haunting his thoughts--_he'd_ never have let an opportunity to find out far too much about _anything_ go to waste. "Why keep it so close? Why not spread the burden on the willing so it's not so much weight?"  
"You all talk behind my back a lot more often than I'd assumed." She teased... for lack of a desire to give him a straight answer.  
"Ky, please." His tone changed. It wasn't begging... and maybe it wasn't quite asking... but it was soft and too heartfelt to ignore. "Tell me what I can do to help you. There has to be _something_."  
She did his request proper justice by honestly taking a long moment to think about it. The answer formed without her having to spend time calling upon it. "I think... what I need... are memories."  
The moment before the answer had given up no more satisfying information than the moment after... but then, maybe... "Reaching for the past?"  
It was hard to say, really. The term wasn't quite right, but... she didn't have a better one. "Something like that."   
"Specifics?"   
"Not... not to me, no. More like... whatever seems important enough to talk about. I think." She shook her head, frustrated by her own words. "I don't know. I don't know anything."  
That, too, reminded him of Zack... only his old friend used to say it in a manner that was both maddening and made it impossible not to grin back at him. He sighed quietly, mostly to himself. "I'm lost in situations like this."  
"Me, too." She seemed to think for a bit on serious matters... right up until a sarcastic smile etched itself onto her features. "But then, I think I'm generally pretty lost."   
"Price of living..." Cloud responded quietly, trying to remember where he'd heard that. It was so long ago...  
"They all fall away in the end, don't they..." Her voice became a whisper. "Even if you never got the chance to hold on in the first place..."  
He could _not_ leave the subject like that. Couldn't let her believe it was all so hopeless... even if he _knew_ what she was talking about. Even if things with Zack and Sephiroth hadn't... worked out... "It wasn't... their fault." He admitted. "They never knew how I felt. I didn't even know." He sighed, shaking his head. "If I'd only... said something..."  
There was a tragic romanticism there, to be sure. Regret, too... so much regret... She closed her eyes against the onslaught of it--for another short moment her arms felt cold and she wrapped them tighter around herself in the slight breeze of the day. The thought hurt... the pain in his voice hurt, as well. "They've got to know now. In some respect, anyway."   
He nodded, uncertain but hopeful. And then... he released the bigger bombshell. "I think, maybe... you'd want to go after more memories than mine."  
Well, that was intriguing. There was only one person he could mean. "Vincent..?"  
"He's got a lot of regrets that I really don't think you know about. I'm not even sure if I do." He looked away for a moment, wondering... but then he assumed she already knew what he was about to tell her. "He tries very hard not to let anyone know what he remembers."  
She swallowed, suddenly more uncomfortable than she thought she should be. Was that why Vincent had behaved like a startled animal in the path of an oncoming train earlier..? Did she call out some of the memories he thought the rest of the world had no right to see? The sorrow that clutched at her was unexpected... but not unfamiliar. It felt like a... lost thing. Something that she didn't even know she had before she lost it. Certainly she knew better--there was time to delve into the ex-Turk's memories if only he'd let her in, but... the sorrow remained. Maybe it was to be expected, dealing with Cloud's bittersweet memories... She spoke without expecting to. "They're all... 'at peace'... and still..."  
"Memory never rests." He responded quietly, knowing she'd understand. There was always the eternal question of "what if"... or the guilt... or that horrifying combination of the two, mixed with worsening nightmare images... He could only let himself be so much at peace with everything he'd ever done. Truth was, really... he didn't even _remember_ all of the things he'd done. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. It would be nicer, that way.  
She gave a mild nod, staring longingly at the city... and not trusting her voice. Overwhelming emotion poured from Sora's heart from what seemed to be a great distance... and she could do nothing but distantly experience those silent sobs of longing. For the island flashing at the edges of her vision... for home... for Riku... for peace. Peace and safety and stillness. There was no comfort she could offer a memory... didn't seem much she could do for a piece of heart she held that wasn't her own.  
Specifics were unknown... and in that sense, maybe it was a mission failed. But... Cloud had discovered enough. When she was ready... she'd find what she needed. He had to believe she'd come to him if she needed to. "Come on." He invited as if he didn't absolutely know an extra weight had just settled on her shoulders. "Let's get back."

The ride back was mercifully long, spectacularly fast--and almost heart-stopping at moments. But that was pretty much everything she'd wanted out of it. Maybe not to forget, but to have a pleasant distraction... it was nice. And it struck her that Cloud was immensely kind for having done so much by so little effort. It was almost too bad that she'd already bought him a bike.  
They finally skidded to an impressively short stop just outside one of the palace entrances in the back--one best known amongst employees directly under the president as the G.Q.L.R.A. Door, for "Get out Quick, Laguna's Rambling Again". The jumble of letters whispered and shouted back and forth as a joke was completely lost on new employees and interns... but not for long.  
Regardless of having come to a definitively complete stop, Kyrie found her hands had decided it was in their best interest to continue to hold on. Cloud chuckled after a moment and helped her untangle her fingers--grasping her hand as she moved to dismount. He couldn't just... let her go. He couldn't leave her with so much... to deal with so much...  
But she was already preparing herself to go back into battle. Obviously, things were not over. She had no doubt in her mind that at that very moment, Riku was seeking her out... and she would not run. The Keyblade was a new weapon that she hardly knew... but Sora knew it. She grasped his hand back in turn, giving it a mild squeeze. "Thanks, Cloud. I needed that."   
He was glad that she was behind him, if only so she couldn't see he was smiling appreciatively. He couldn't very well outright tell her how much she reminded him of himself. Regardless, however... "Be careful."  
"I will." She knew it to have been a stupid thing to say, but...  
He shook his head, breaking the oncoming mood entirely. "If you would just... walk into Vincent's office, first thing..."  
That raised red flags and eyebrows. "Not that I won't, of course... but, why do you insist on it now?"  
Once again he was painfully glad that she couldn't see his expression. "I would like to see his reaction."   
_So would I._ "Sure." She agreed. "But then I've got to change. I keep _creaking_ in all this leather."

The unnecessary knock at Vincent's door was familiar; Cloud's knock, when he felt like trying to make himself a nuisance. Albeit a welcome nuisance. This game did require a move on his part, however. "Enter." What walked in... was certainly not Cloud.  
Being told of the gift of leathers for Kyrie was one thing... but having been surprised by her (and _them_) in person was quite another. She'd never quite seen that expression on his face before, lips slightly apart and shaped in a tragically revealing "O". Yes... she could enjoy wielding that much power... It was certainly inviting more dirty tricks onto their battlefield. "Alive and in one piece." She informed him as innocently as possible.  
Cloud was holding his breath in the doorway, desperately biting at his tongue. If he laughed, if he so much as cracked a smile or made a noise... it was all over.  
"I can see that." Vincent seemed to have finally retrieved his voice, trying for annoyance at being interrupted.   
"Just wanted to make sure no one got into trouble." She dismissed in an almost believable lie, wandering out as casually as ever.  
It was a perfect performance. Cloud was one swift second from completing his own when his name was spoken softly--with all the meaning of an order from a god. Somehow he held himself back from sighing with defeat before turning back and stepping inside the office.  
"Is that your doing?" the ex-Turk man feigned something that may have been meant to be indifference.  
It took everything the blonde had in him not to grin like a maniac. "You didn't expect me to let her on a bike without protection..."  
Another amused look passed between them. They really had been spending too much time together recently... "Was there a _specific_ reason it looks like it's been tailor made to her body, _specifically_?" Vincent managed to be more and less vague at once.  
"It was a birthday gift." He dodged, somewhat successfully.   
That's all he needed to know. He supposed it really _was_ that obvious... "Go back to your shop, Cloud."

Kyrie whistled to herself down the hallway, feeling absolutely no rush in finding the room with her old clothes. Yes, the damn outfit _creaked_ and it drove her _nuts_, but... it still felt kinda nice. That, and she just couldn't get the expression on Vincent's face out of her head. It went so very many steps beyond merely amusing...  
_Ah. Should have known._ Not that far down from Laguna's office rested a particular white-haired half-devil, in the middle of building a tower out of little paper cups in one of the coffee nooks. He was actually rather successful, too... though she hated to think of how many of the other coffee nooks he'd invaded to get quite so many cups. Kiros was going to have several caniptions.  
John would have heard her coming earlier had he not been concentrating quite so hard on his astounding creation. As it was, though, he began to greet her before he turned. "Hey! I thought you were--fuck."  
"I feel like I am, yes." She joked, spinning around to model the leathers. "Only now do I understand your obsession."   
He... was... glad. Really glad. Cloud had done very well in his selection. He chuckled to himself with that thought, drawing a finger over the red leather collar. Of course, he'd had nothing to worry about. He was just about to give Rodger a shout when the brunette appeared around the corner of a connecting hallway, Kyrie definitely just out of sight. Oh, this would be sweet.  
She took note of John's expression, watching the other hall--and got the gist immediately. Ah, wonderful. If she did a good job surprising her husband, maybe she'd skip the birthday gift for him that year. It was an amusing thought, if nothing else.   
The surprise sure worked--he'd opened his mouth to ask something of John, but his eyes discovered a much better, more interesting focus as he skidded to a halt. "Whoah." He tried. Then, after several beats, he attempted conversation again. "Whoah."   
"And here I thought it was just _my_ birthday present." She turned again, slowly giving everyone a good look. "I don't suppose you two had anything to do with this perfect fit."   
After another look at just _how_ well the leather hugged every curve of her body without being restrictive... "Less than you might think." Rodger joked.  
"Alright, the tightness is getting to me now. I need jeans." She announced. Taking a step to find them, however... resulted in the motion of the world.  
That shift. That damn, dizzying _marker_ that noted something had changed, _was changing_--  
The dark embrace was not so scary, that time. It was far from comfortable, not a bit _comforting_, but... thinking back, it wasn't as if she hadn't known it would happen in a completely unexpected moment. Oh well... questioning Vincent was just going to have to wait, she supposed.

And then... it _wasn't_ like before. Not at _all_. From darkness to... dimness? There was solid ground beneath her feet, though. Granted that she could barely see it even though she was sitting (_Why sitting?_) right on it, but... she was certainly in her body.   
She just... didn't know _where_ her body was. Exactly.  
Fuck. This was not... a familiar place. Standing up with a silenced groan of tired muscles and overall frustration, she took a long, steady look around. At least it didn't seem to be populated... though she wasn't sure how good of a thing that was. No Heartless, yes... but no people. No buildings. Just a strange field of dark skies and dark ground beneath her.  
_Great. Fucking great. I'm alone._  
--Wait. Actually... there was someone approaching. At least that's how it appeared; it looked like someone walking toward her. And while there was no light source to speak of, the closer it got to her, the more she could make out.  
The figure approaching wore a long black coat like Riku, covering everything but black boots, black gloves, a head of brightest red hair that could only be rivaled by Cloud's impossible spikes... and a very devious expression on his face. It was nearly enough to knock her right back down on her ass, but for some reason it inspired her to be just a little too pissed to care. He was looking right at her, approaching with no great hurry, hands folded neatly behind him as he walked.  
Yeah. Great. And she was just in the mood for company, too. She took an amazing chance by extending her hand, hoping very deeply that she could manage to once again call the Keyblade. Maybe _that_ would scare him off--but as the pain sparked from her palm outward, as the light shone from the wound and formed that familiar and unfamiliar weapon while ripping the bandages that had been around the wound it had left before, the approaching stranger only looked more interested in her.  
He halted, several yards away, merely watching for a long period of time. When he did speak, it was a voice of amusement. "So. You can hold the Keyblade."  
Her eyes narrowed, both at his tone and his oddly bright grin. He didn't seem the type to be easily scared off. Unfortunately. "Yeah. Ain't that a kick in the crotch?"  
The stranger chuckled almost pleasantly. "It is indeed." Behaving as if she were no threat at all, he began to circle her. Watching. Grinning. Nodding every once in a while.   
Kyrie felt tension rise with anger. What the _hell_ did the man think he was _doing_? They were watching one another closely... but she was not moving, while he continued to circle. What at last he was behind her, he made a great showing of staring directly at her leather-clad ass--and _whistling_.  
Amusing as it may have been on any day when she _wasn't_ pissed off and ready to tear anything in her path apart, she wasn't really feeling all that civil in that very moment. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to treat a lady like that?" she tossed sarcastically, trying to gauge what kind of a fighter he was by attitude alone.  
"You're no lady." His face still held that grin... but his voice held an absolute seriousness, as well.  
"Granted." She countered, other hand reaching for her gunblade. Certainly he was measuring her up for attack... that was the only explanation. So, maybe she could turn the tables in her favor. "So who the fuck are you, anyway?"   
He grinned with her question, certain that her curiosity was only halfway honest. "I'm one of the survivors of the Last Great Disaster... but nevermind that. You weren't told about _that_ part. They both damned themselves."  
A shiver moved through her body before she could gain control of it; she knew who he was referring to. Some bit of Sora recognized this figure... though she couldn't consciously gather a name or a purpose. Last Great Disaster..? Damned themselves..?   
"You don't belong here." He announced, quietly.  
The words surprised her as much as the cool, almost helpful tone of his voice. "I'd say the same thing about you."   
His grin was cutting. "Indeed. Good instinct."  
She returned the expression, keyblade ready in one hand... and her gunblade pulled in the other. "I've heard it all before. Let's go."  
Her reaction seemed to satisfy him on some level, though his expression never changed. "Believe it or not, I'm not here to fight you. Not that I want to refuse. I'm sure it would be quite the experience."  
Curiosity about the man had lead into complete frustration. She was not his _plaything_. "So you're still here because..?"  
Only then did his expression change, the grin fading into something almost... sad. "The Dawn Walker lead you here. The Heartless who happens to have a heart... although it's not entirely _his_ right now. But you needn't worry about that part--I'm simply looking for him."  
He was a genuine puzzle, to put it all very blandly. Friend or foe, something told her that Riku would not have wanted her to be in contact with this man. "There's just little ol' me here, for now. That'll have to do."  
"I guess it will." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with a gloved hand, the grin almost instantly reappearing. "Shall I show you something, then?"  
Well. What a question. Would it have really mattered how she responded, she wondered... "I'm still not sure of your part in all of this."  
Once again, he somehow seemed thrilled with her response. "Tsk tsk. Isn't it enough to know we're intertwined in the same web of existence? Albeit completely separate strands."   
That... was not helpful. At all. She saw very little choice, however... she was trapped there, she knew it. So did the grinning redhead. She swallowed, slowly placing Eleison back at her side... and even more slowly willing the Keyblade to disappear. That time, she could feel the blood oozing from her palm, glancing down at it without meaning to.  
The stranger seemed to consider her wound for a moment, then shrugged it off as he turned and lead the way. Kyrie was left behind for only a moment, blinking stupidly. What did he know that he wasn't willing to let her in on..? No matter, she supposed. Given the choice to follow or get lost... she walked behind him.   
It couldn't have been more than three steps later when the darkness around them began to... _melt_. It dripped and fell away into brilliant gold light--and then solid objects. She blinked against the sudden onslaught of light and form, surprised entirely by _not_ being dizzy with the suddenness of it. She was in... what looked like the coliseum she'd met the "other" Cloud in. Well, that was certainly unexpected. She glanced at her "guide" to see him comfortably beside her, willing her onward with his eyes.   
Turning back toward the inner circle of the battleground, she instantly found a familiar face across the way. "Hey, John!" Well, there was one down. Faster than she expected, even.  
He sauntered on over in no rush. "Hey, Ky. Who's your friend?"  
"Don't know, don't care." She didn't have to turn around to know the redhead was grinning viciously at her back. "You alone?"  
"'Fraid so." He confirmed, glancing behind him one more time. He'd had the strangest feeling of being watched since he'd just "found" himself there moments ago... with the distinct feeling the redhead was _not_ the source. "Well, I was."  
Kyrie turned back to inquire-- "Hm." It seemed the mysterious asshole had decided to skip out and leave them to fend for themselves. Well. Not that she ultimately minded, she guessed... "I don't suppose you happen to know what the fuck is going on..."  
"I was kinda hoping you did." John admitted, trying not to keep looking over his shoulder. There was _definitely_ someone else here...  
And he wasn't the only one who felt it. Glancing down at her hand, Kyrie made note of the dried blood on her palm... but no open wound. At least that was _something_...  
--Not enough. Not nearly enough. She could _taste_ it...  
He _descended_. The bastard _descended_ from the _fucking_ sky--  
Sephiroth.  
And yet... not Sephiroth. The eyes were familiar enough to still her breath as they met her gaze--but there was too _much_ of a difference... something much, much... _worse_... Too cold, too distant... too _sane_... When she finally had the sense about her to break eye contact, she was stricken entirely with that single, black, feathered wing on his back...  
John immediately moved to grasp both of her shoulders to hold her back. "_Whoah_ there, Ky." He tried to keep his good-natured sense of humor about him... but the strain was noticed in his voice. Even with his above normal strength, the fight she had in her, the dedication she had given to that single step forward before he had the presence of mind to stop her... was pretty damn incredible. Almost without understanding. He knew the basics of their history, but he also knew that _this_ was not the same Sephiroth she knew.  
What John failed to realize, was that _that_ in itself was the very reason she was so desperately enraged. Pained. Maybe... afraid. That was _not_ Sephiroth... but not in the same ways that Leon was not Squall. That had been... acceptable. Understandable. This, looking into those slitted, glowing Mako eyes that held hardly a touch of the _insanity_, the _pain_, the... _passion_ that she'd been forced to realize... It wasn't right. Perhaps this image in front of her was a paler shade of the real thing, in her mind... but really, there was something deeper. This Sephiroth had embraced the Darkness... with a knowledge. With a _choice_. He didn't have the pain raging through him that the other had. That just kinda... pissed her off. He would never know the true pain of his counterpart.  
And that wing... that single, black, feathered wing... that was the center of her rage. _Why_, exactly, was lost to her in the moment... but she was forced to understand somewhere deep down that maybe only the color itself was wrong.  
But... John was right. There was no reason for her rage really. Just because she remembered something differently didn't mean... Well, enough. She passed a hand delicately over one of his that was holding her shoulders, and that was enough of a sign that she understood.  
He let go, but stood beside her. This was not over, obviously--especially since the not-Sephiroth had begun to walk toward them with a look of sick amusement on his face. Well... he had his guns. He knew her nightmares, sometimes... knew the descriptions Rodger had given him of what her back looked like after Sephiroth had gotten done with her, how he talked about the time when the psycho tried to take her mind. It was all the rage he needed to pump adrenaline, should he need to.  
Maybe it was not the commanding, fearsome presence of _the_ Sephiroth... but John found his knees not quite as strong as he'd have liked them to be when the man towered above him, stopping only inches away from them both. He seemed to ignore Kyrie, obviously and purposefully--instead, reaching an elegant hand to the half-devil.  
John did not so much as blink when the man's gloved hand swept almost delicately under his chin, along his jawline. Those dangerous, green cat eyes held maliciousness under the slow mask of an easy smirk. The only thing keeping the man from moving in for the kill was a sudden cold force against his lower region.  
"One step closer and I'll blast you balls off." The boy promised, pressing Ebony even harder against the exact area he'd threatened. "Real" Sephiroth or no... he was not a man to be trusted.  
The green glow increased as the eyes narrowed even more dangerously. "I could lay waste to all that you are, boy."  
He'd faced worse demons than _this_. "Go ahead and fucking try." He dared, squeezing Ebony a little tighter.   
There was a disapproving look over the man's face--and then his focus shifted. If the boy may well prove some entertainment, what of his companion?   
She sensed the shift before she saw it--catching his wrist with a strength that rivaled his own before he could touch her. "I've done this before." She announced through gritted teeth, not even exactly sure _what_ she was announcing... or from whose point of view. Sora had fought him before... but, in a way, so had she. "Disappear. Now."  
"Such spirit..." he managed to yank his hand away, "But what have you against me?"  
A sickening sweet tone... more sane than she'd have cared for it to have been. In fact... that's all his cold eyes shone back at her--utter sanity. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing.   
That was... so much worse... No matter; she backed up a step and called the Keyblade, hoping he'd see it to his disadvantage. She was certain she didn't hide the cringe as well as she'd wanted to, though... it _hurt_. Like it were being ripped from her body rather than willed into existence... and maybe that was more the truth.  
Apparently, it was the wrong move to have made. Or, at least, it was the advantage being looked for. It happened all at once, simply far too quickly and under too much chaos to make sense of the motions. All Kyrie knew was a crashing, seething agony in her right shoulder--enough to make her forget the Keyblade, for it to disappear from her grasp and leave behind more oozing blood... though that didn't seem to be the only blood...  
Only when the distinct, too-real feeling of a surprisingly cold, leather-clad palm rested against the bare flesh of her abdomen was she able to gather herself enough to snarl with anger, understanding what had just happened too quickly. The eerily not-quite-Sephiroth had used several kinds of magic in one quick burst, knocking John away and her flying into one of the pillars on the far side--only... she hadn't fallen to the ground.  
That was where the pain screaming from her shoulder came in, apparently... she didn't have to look up to know she'd have seen half the Masamune jutting from the flesh. The blade was long and certainly strong enough to have pierced stone... and whatever little resistance her body had offered. Hanging there, mocked by vicious green eyes and the hand he'd so obviously slid under her new leather jacket to drive her rage further... She reached for her gunblade as he made to lean forward, but he was just too ready for the move when her reaction time was slowed by the pain. Only graceful ease and a harsh grasp took her wrist, pinning it against the pillar with his other hand.  
"Careful, now." The beast whispered against her ear, very slowly drawing his touch upward. "You wouldn't want me to slip and--"  
Her scream drowned out the rest of his words. She felt his palm against her lowest right rib press--then thrust. She _heard_ the break and _felt_ the splinters tearing into her flesh. Vision became white, all other senses tainted by breathless, shuddering _pain_.  
Gunshots. Close, or she never would have heard them over the thunder of blood rushing in her ears. Splinters of broken ribs... that wasn't something she was exactly expecting, let alone used to. She didn't notice the hand dropping away from her, couldn't quite grasp the concept of reaching up to try and free herself of the blade holding her there, just yet...  
_How_ Rodger had found himself at the center of a coliseum was absolutely not important. Instinct called for him to raise his gun long before the sight that made his throat dry but his blood boil--and his finger was on the trigger even before the aim was true. He shot that dark wing hovering over her, getting a number of satisfying spurts of blood and blown-apart feathers--just enough to get the bastard to turn around and move for a better shot...  
John took it along with him. He'd been _thrown_ all the way to the other side of the arena, thinking his shoulder badly wrenched from the socket if not suffering from a break as well. No matter--the other arm was just fine for shooting, and Ivory wanted a little blood.  
Even though her eyes were watering with the pain, Kyrie could see the bullets tearing through the fabric, the feathers, the flesh--but the man didn't so much as flinch. She finally gave an attempt at reaching for the blade that held her, realizing with another bright flash of searing pain that she couldn't reach anything but blade. She could already tell that her hands were sweating, to try and wrench the sword from the pillar while shaking with agony from broken ribs and a skewed shoulder...  
"So there's three of you now..." the false Sephiroth seemed overly pleased, turning around only long enough to give the boys a decent look at everything they _weren't_ accomplishing with bullets. "Perhaps you would try your luck with a spar?"   
_Bastard._ So smug, so sure... so annoying confident. He was moving in again, to snap another rib like a dry branch beneath his fingers...   
"Fuck off." She growled, grasping tightly onto a spark of memory she was not familiar with. Lucky for her, she'd stopped trying to make sense of it long ago. "Draw."  
In a world devoid of most magics since Ultimecea had been defeated, the finer points of how to draw magic from a natural draw point or a creature was never explained to her. Hardly even brought up, in fact... and certainly not the ability to draw and then immediately... "Cast." She ordered without understanding why.  
Light. It was light with a physical form, with a presence and mass and... a weapon. The wing that had been so darkly held over her shuddered--the man gasped and then drew back, startled for a moment... before the true sting of the magic sent him into a half-yelled curse. He had only enough time to glare hatefully at Kyrie... before all pain vanished from her face, showing only a feral grin.  
"Cast, Holy." She ordered with more certainty. Without really being able to grasp the understanding of _how_, she'd broken through his defenses... and then some.  
More bullets, more blood; a cry of rage and then one of pain. All at once the single wing extended, somehow managing to carry his body up before it disappeared in a burst of darkness. Not _defeated_... but certainly driven away.  
It occurred to Kyrie right about then, that she'd be a lot happier if she weren't still in quite so much pain. Closing her eyes to gain a sense of calm, she heard the approaching footsteps of the other two.  
"Ky?" Rodger sounded horrified and concerned at once, seeing blood from her palm, her shoulder... and slowly trickling down from under her leather jacket.  
"Rib. Broken." She gasped, realizing taking a deep breath had been a really stupid thing to do. "I'd appreciate it... if you'd get me down."  
John rushed over, feeling like an idiot for not having done so immediately. Of course... she was a lot more calm than he imagined someone in her position should have been. He hesitated, though...  
"Just pull." She suggested, not entirely gently. The pain was one thing... but the echoing thoughts of the all too familiar blade having pierced her again...  
Much as he didn't find that suggestion to be the best idea in the world... the half-devil did as she asked. With his good arm, he used one swift, almost violent tug, and the sword was pulled away; leaving behind a bitten-back cry and what was likely a series of curses uttered under one sharp breath. He caught her as gently as he could given that his own shoulder was still suffering from a physical blow, doing everything in his power not to make her broken rib throb any more. He'd been there... it wasn't fun.  
Between the shoulder and the rib, she pretty much decided the day was already a bad one. Even taking in the air to thank him sent a sharp jolt through her... not that _not_ breathing at all felt that great, either. Dammit. She should have asked Cloud about his Restore materia. What she'd give for healing magic...   
--Which brought something else to mind immediately. "Holy." Even whispered, the word was... an odd one. Odder still was how she'd known... done and felt and... used... She still felt a little glimmer of it inside of her, too, as if it were ready to be called out and used again. Trying to control her breathing to cause the least amount of annoyance and pain, she had to ask. "Can either of you draw?"  
"I'm still trying to figure out how the hell _you_ did it..." Rodger admitted, looking her up and down. Really, what the hell were they going to do now? It was all he could do not to shiver. Sephiroth... not _the_ Sephiroth, but a version of him... had been so close... _again_... Rage and fear and a sick, vicious sensation were threatening to overcome his forced calm...  
The discovery of just how much a single broken rib mattered was getting annoying. Kyrie had moved forward from John for only a moment, taking all of her weight on her right leg... very lucky he was paying enough attention to allow her to lean against him again. Another thought was taking her attention... _how_ could she e_ver_ be able to draw? Guardian Forces... she'd never seen one, let alone... it made no sense. Materia couldn't draw, she knew that... and the magic of Holy had been lost for so long...  
The sudden flash and movement of what could only be called dark energy distracted their thoughts--and for just a moment it caused painfully tight weights to form in all of their stomachs at the thought that the man had _returned_...  
Worry was alleviated, albeit slightly, by Riku appearing to dart out from the suddenly appearing tunnel of darkness; the gateway was sealed by a whispered word and the touch of his hand before he turned to them. Relief crossed his eyes--just before concern. He had his suspicions about what had happened... Sephiroth was only glad to take on new opponents, and anyone who entered the coliseum was fair game.  
It took Riku only a glance to understand Kyrie's wounds. At least the Masamune left perfectly clean cuts. The shattered rib, having left cuts through the flesh, however... Well, better to just get it over with. "I suggest you prepare yourself. On three?"  
Her gaze was surprisingly good-natured for what she knew was about to happen. "Oh, you think I'd fall for tha--"  
There was no count, at all. While he hadn't exactly planned it, he'd gotten used to his will causing things to happen before he was actually ready. Unknown words whispered under his breath, hand outstretched, palm towards her... a light layered of purple and green sealed her shoulder with almost no pain at all, but the rib... that was different. She actually surprised him by not yelping, not lashing out at him with curses. Just a long, deep, shuddering breath. He liked to think perhaps it was gratitude holding her back... but he remembered, with a cold shudder, an incident where Sora had suffered from multiple broken ribs...  
Kyrie allowed herself a deep, pain-free breath before giving her _new_, bloodied leather jacket a mild look... prodding at the holes still cut on either side of her shoulder. Well. It would figure, wouldn't it. She changed the subject out of little more than extreme aggravation. "How long were we gone?"   
Riku blinked. He was expecting _some_ accusation, or at the very least some mention of the pain he'd just caused... Not that he minded. "A day or so."  
"'Or so'..?" John questioned, puzzled. Though time moved differently between worlds, there was usually a... formula, so to speak, for each individual world shift...  
"You can't trust how the light moves, here." The boy replied quietly, turning away.  
Curiosity of his statement flared in Kyrie only a scant second before the answer hit her from Sora's memory--day and night no longer existed in the worlds invaded by Heartless... "What happened?" came from her lips, once again not knowing quite what she was referring to.  
"There was a... shift." Riku responded meekly, still looking away. "I couldn't stop it..."  
No answer... but the distinct impression that getting more out of him wasn't worth the struggle, for the moment. Well. Then. "Take a look at John's shoulder. Then let's keep going."

* * *

Yeah, who didn't see Sephy comin'. As for what's going on? Well, uh... you'll see. I hope. This chapter was a long story in itself, huh? I'm still only _semi_-sure of what's going to happen, so it should be fun for all of us. Yay.  
If you'd like to be e-mailed when I update, drop me a line with whatever story/stories/website you'd like me to inform you of. 


	9. Chapter 9

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?  
Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.   
Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before any plot detail on _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.  
**_GREAT BIG STORY-RELATED NOTE:_** A lot of of this story was "planned" (as much as I _can_ plan anything with Kyrie) well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out. At this point, I've almost completely spoiled myself as to plot points of the game (yay spoilers!)... but I'm rather planning to stay with the original direction this story was going in, in the first place. Therefore, there _will_ be references to _Kingdom Hearts 2_, but... generally don't worry about me spoiling anything for you. I guess that makes this AU. Dammit.  
Do I have enough warnings up here? Heh.

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart  
Chapter 9  
By Orin Drake

She wanted to ask... to see what he knew of the red-haired man who seemed to be looking for him... and what he knew of Sephiroth... Some base instinct prevented her from opening her mouth. For whatever reason, mentioning either subject didn't feel particularly... "safe".   
No matter. She would find out what she needed to know as things went along, she was sure. She watched carefully as Riku passed a hand several inches over John's shoulder, whispering words not quite heard. The half-devil hissed, but the pain was quick before the healing.   
"About getting out of here..." Kyrie brought up tentatively. She knew better than to expect any form of Sephiroth would _ever_ stay away for long.  
"If you're ready." Riku agreed conversationally. "It may be a bit more rough than the first time."  
He'd meant to make another gateway, then..? Puzzling. "Last time I was here, I had to leave in a ship..." she admitted.  
"The worlds... the walls between them are thinner, now. They're easier to travel between." Their guide turned, splaying his hand outward and whispering something unintelligible--a small flash exploded in empty air, opening suddenly into what could only be described as a tunnel of darkness.  
"And isn't _that_ a nifty little trick ya got there." She happened to comment before either of the other two could manage.   
"Ladies, first." Riku invited with a slightly smug grin. "Don't worry, I've got a Barrier cast on the other side."  
The three of them made note of that, Kyrie specifically preparing to go after any and all information he had about the use of spells when they had another quiet moment. Not that she was terribly thrilled with going through any more Hyne-damned freaky tunnels... but she had to admit, she was eager to explore other worlds.  
--It was the landing part that got her. Again. A bit worse than the first time, actually... in that the ground seemed to appear above her.  
At least, that was her story when Rodger again ran headlong into her, already having landed quite hard on the stone herself. It was merely par for the course, John managing to avoid landing _on_ the pile because he tripped _over_ them. It was fortunate that Riku landed easily on his feet. Fortunate but _maddening_.   
A couple of painful groans later and they were all standing... albeit Kyrie had a slight limp that she hoped would go away within minutes. It wouldn't do for appearances. "And where'd we wind up this time?" she decided to try her luck and ask, taking a look around at a place that wasn't entirely rubble... but not really in the best of shape, either.  
"Hollow Bastion." Riku half-responded. "We... shouldn't be here."  
That sounded promising, alright. She'd known better than to ask, too. "Any chance we can get to where we _should_ be?" She got a rather mild poke in the shoulder for that one, John having been amused both by the question and the tone.   
It seemed their guide was too occupied with other thoughts to have entirely noticed the point of her question. "I'm... not sure. I'll try again when I can."  
Kyrie swallowed. She'd been the fool to ask, after all. Dusting herself off, she took a much more thorough look around... noting that they seemed to be on some kind of a castle structure. A balcony, quite high up if the scent of the air was any indication. There was quite a drop-off in front of them, the edged crumbled a bit over what looked to be the wear of time. And over the edge was--  
"That's... not... natural... is it?" Rodger wasn't quite certain if he ought to inquire.  
Riku gave him a puzzled look for a moment, then noticed what they were all staring at. "Ah, the falls. Well... it is here."   
...Interesting... The gunblader took another look at the strange motion of the water before turning back to the castle behind them. Something very familiar struck her, from Sora's memories... but it was terribly fuzzy. Something sad, something bitter...  
She took a step forward without meaning to, toward the half-collapsed archway and into the building. Another step and her vision blurred. A bright white flash at the edge of her vision--then the pain hit. Too strong to allow her to cry out, all things ceased to exist to that lightning ripping through her skull--   
Screaming. No sensation, but screaming... from everywhere around, even from inside...  
_Sora._ A realization... then pain...  
_Sora, where are you..?_ Not her thoughts... but not _not_ her thoughts, either... Screaming and pain... pain that bleeds the light from the world... bleeds... light... bleeding light...   
_"Sora!"_ A cry of fear, desperation... Riku's voice in a dead panic...   
Tearing apart... rending and twisting his heart from his chest... Loss. Devastation. Aching, then... nothing...  
The screaming changed, unknown, unfamiliar voices at first... two, there were two of them... light too bright to look into... glittering... blades, needles... wires... cold... too much cold... Over and over, there was blood and Mako and screaming... beating with pulses, pulses felt against the cold table... can't get up... want to get up... too much screaming... _Stop hurting him, you bastard_...  
Desire can't heal these wounds... loss and blood and pain can't heal these... these... what are these..?  
Spinning... green haze and pain and voices that don't make _sense_... but something is wrong... nothing is left... _I'm not who I used to be..._  
_Forgiveness... will I never have forgiveness..._  
A new scream, for the same thing... but not... yes, but no... no no no _no no_! _Monster..._ Rage and agony and... unknown... unsure... hurting...  
Then pictures, flashing, images, like photographs, like flip-books, all moving so quickly but leaving so much behind. Pain... blood... death... horror... all wrong... none of it meant to be... it wasn't meant to be this way...  
The sound of her name was in there somewhere... she knew she'd heard it above the nightmare din... Too quiet at first, but then louder. An unrecognized voice, but one of a friend. She knew it belonged to a friend--  
The agony broke. It gave way like a dying storm to the too-powerful sun behind it, flooding her with light and warmth... and safety. There had been an island, somewhere, at some point in time, full of joy and innocence. There had been moments of blindingly brilliant hope amidst the dark city. There had been peace there, at the end. Grateful, total, peace.  
Somehow _that_--out of all of the sensations, the memories, the images presented--was what shocked her awake.

She'd expected to open her eyes to a bright light, for some reason. Never could have explained why, but... it didn't really matter when her eyes focused on a dimly lit ceiling far above. It looked like it may have been elaborately decorated at one time, having since been crumbled and perhaps scorched by fire. She blinked with the thought, catching only the barest forms of memory regarding the subject that confirmed her suspicions.  
"I'm learning to keep you here for longer." Riku's quiet voice informed her.  
She turned her head to ask questions--admittedly startled when he appeared beside her... transparent. Another glance at the ceiling she'd just been staring at revealed that it, too, seemed to be disappearing.  
"Something's interfering." He continued, closing his eyes and looking the absolute picture of concentration. "That lapse you had... I thought I could hold the three of you here this time, but I just wasn't strong enough. You have to rest in your world. I'll come for you again, when I get closer."   
_No, wait, Riku--_   
Everything faded to pure black. She could _feel_ the eyes of the redhead, but saw nothing. Heard nothing. She thought of sitting up, but suddenly felt no ground underneath her... and yes, something here was wrong. Something larger had interfered. Something... closer to her world..?  
Memories of a different sort played out in her mind's eye. She wasn't experiencing it as much as she was watching from a distance--and it was Squall, during the war. Like a picture forced upon her, like someone trying to tell her _something_... She witnessed him casting...  
--No, not casting. Calling. He was calling a Guardian Force from his mind, his body glowing as he did so...  
_Lion's cub..._ she heard suddenly, an echo in her mind. It was that same cold voice... a cold, feminine voice... the one that had promised to protect her during the last memories she'd had of her parents...

The scene and the voice faded into more familiar, artificial overhead light and dull murmurs. She was against something soft... in fact, it was moving. Breathing. Her eyes snapped open just to make sure she hadn't landed in some truly horrible situation.  
Vincent, talking to John. They were all the way on the other side of the room from where she was, slumped on the floor against--   
Rodger. Whew. She'd know his worried, comforting rub of her shoulder anywhere. She didn't bother to wait to be noticed, however. "So what happened this time?"  
"You tell us." Her husband responded, wrapping his arms around her when she moved to sit up. After having seen her collapse at Hollow Bastion and whatever the _hell_ she'd been whispering about only moments before... he just wanted to... keep her there, for a moment. It had happened again. He and John had "woken" to find her eyes half open, talking softly in tongues they couldn't grasp. And that time, the way she seemed to be _calling_ to something, they weren't sure they wanted all that much knowledge about it.  
All eyes fell on her in silence, but she could only shake her head. "Something... 'interfered'. Brought us back early. That's all I know."  
Vincent crossed the room to give her a more thorough looking over before filling her in on what he knew. "This is a different office than the one you appeared in last time. Luckily, still an empty one. I'd hate to have to explain this to anyone."  
At least that eased the tension in her shoulders a little bit--right up until she remembered what she'd just woken from. What if... that voice..?  
"Ky?" Rodger felt her muscles tense, concerned that yet something else was happening to her.  
She took a moment to bleed her voice of threatening nervousness at the very idea. "I've got some research to do on Guardian Forces."  
A long silence ensued. Somewhat surprisingly, Vincent turned out to be the one capable of breaking it--and making an exit at the same time. "I'll inform the Estate library you might need extra material." With a much too professional nod, he simply left.  
More silence, for a while. Kyrie took the initiative, that time. "Hey, John... did I see you _talking_ to Vincent?"  
The half-devil was quite seriously floored by her question. Of all the things to discuss... he grinned, though, cocky and nonchalant self coming through. "Weird, huh?"  
Rodger finally released her as her body fell back into a somewhat relaxed state, not fearing for her quite as much as he had a moment before. "What's with the Guardian Force research..?"   
She got to her feet before offering a hand to him. "I'm not... quite sure. But I'm getting the feeling that I'm either being contacted by or... pushed toward... Shiva..."  
Now that was one hell of a thought. John tilted his head with a puzzled expression. "And a 'Guardian Force' is..?"   
Kyrie opened her mouth to answer... then decided that she wasn't exactly sure how to do so. "Okay, why don't you two wait at the library and start."   
Another not entirely comfortable silence passed before Rodger questioned her decision. "And you will be..?"  
"Hopefully finishing something." She responded vaguely on purpose... but absolutely certain of herself and her decision. Riku had told her to rest, but... she needed a few things done first.  
The boys seemed to understand. At least, they trusted her enough to leave her to her task.

The knock on his door wasn't entirely surprising. The waiting for him to answer it, though, was a little... unexpected. "Kyrie." He greeted as though she were a foreign dignitary.  
"Vincent." She grinned softly, mimicking his tone. She only stepped inside enough for the door to close, not entirely sure of how welcome she'd really be.  
The raven-haired man turned away and walked back to his desk, sitting down and paying far too much attention to his paperwork. "I thought you might have wanted to relieve Cloud of his boredom, instead."  
"And leave you to your own devices? Insanity." She pressed on with humor, trying to break through for just long enough...  
"The library staff is expecting you." He attempted to cut her off gently, not looking up from another page worth of bland reports concerning nothing of interest.  
Perhaps she'd have to make her own opening, then. "Actually... I kind of wanted to... delve for memories for a minute, first."   
"Grown bored with Cloud's memories?" he attempted to divert in a gentler tone.   
She grinned at the quip, inviting herself in completely and sitting down in the all too familiar chair in front of his desk. "I think it'd be hard to get bored with them, actually..." Back to the point. "I was a little curious about yours."  
The whole world seemed to take on a darkness, then. Maybe she didn't know specifically what she was asking of him... but, all the same... "I don't... they aren't of interest to you."   
She tilted her head with those words... and with his avoidance of eye contact. That was... odd. So unlike him. Not that she would push if he really didn't want her to, but...  
"No one deserves these memories." He informed her firmly. "I'd rather keep them to myself. They'll die with me, that way."  
Quietly, thoughtfully, she expressed her opinion. "I thought _you_ were the one that's always getting _me_ to--"   
"Kyrie."   
They stared one another down for a long time. Not from malice; it was a battle of wills.  
A battle she broke every rule for by speaking. "What are you afraid of, Vincent? Just tell me that."  
Fear. Fear..? No, that wasn't... that couldn't be it. His usual attempt at cold blankness seemed... irrevocably interrupted by flashes of memory he did not want. He no longer knew what had really happened and what was just a fantastical nightmare image--if there had ever been a way to tell, it was lost to the years. Everything was a nightmare, whether it was really happening or not...  
"What are you suffering for?" she pushed as strongly as she dared.  
The question itself felt like a slap. "Kyrie... please..."   
"Yeah, I know. You're a Turk. You could kill me five times before I hit the ground--and maybe that's what bothers you. But it's one of those 'righteous ways to die' I keep hearing people talk about that have never been in a fucking war to begin with, so I guess I'll just let you hurt yourself some more."  
Her harshness made him cringe--the venom in her words acting only to make him face the truth, not as a personal attack. He _knew_ that, he understood... "It's... been better, of late."   
She sighed quietly to herself, calming. "I know. I'm glad... but... I never see you after hours."  
"I'm at your house all the time..."  
"That's not after-hours." She countered seriously. "You're still on the clock, as far as I'm concerned. That's your... Turk life, with us."  
Worse, still... he knew what she was saying. And she was exactly right.  
She continued softly, taking a sweeping look over the desk... the office... everything. "Maybe you don't have nightmares anymore... but I bet there are... other things."  
He didn't like where the conversation seemed to be going... but he couldn't really find it in himself to stop her. "I don't dwell on it anymore. I don't... need to."  
"It's still there, though."  
"I--..." he stumbled, albeit barely. There was an ache with his confession... deeper than he cared to get. "Yes, it's... still there. Sometimes."  
She'd started to hurt him with her presence, then... and she couldn't allow that. It wasn't meant... wasn't necessary or right in any regard. "I don't... _know_ what you did... and I guess when it comes down to it, I don't really give a fuck, but... you don't deserve to hurt. Maybe you _did_, for all I know... but you _don't_, now."  
His throat betrayed him, clicking softly as he swallowed without meaning to. "You could be blind."  
"I could be stupid." She agreed. "I love you, anyway. So... don't..." She sighed, having no more words. There was just nothing left to say. Everyone around her should just... _stop hurting_ so damn much... "If you are going to insist I not keep things to myself--"   
"This isn't something that needs to be shared." He interrupted, trying for a cold resistance.  
She shrugged mildly. Not to instigate, but to end the battle altogether. "Alright. If that's what you really think, then I believe you."  
She had _meant_ that to be the end of it. She'd _meant_ to nod, get up and leave, but... something else... overtook that desire. She could feel it, control slipping--but for whatever reason, she let it happen. _Someone_ had to dig deeper, and if she couldn't bring herself to do it... then maybe something else inside of her could. "I've seen your scars, you know." She stood and stalked slowly toward him, her voice dropping as she made her way closer. "I've _felt_ them. Run my hands over some of them."  
He'd felt the switch in her as surely as she had... and he was trying very hard not to be intimidated. Harder than he ever thought he should. "Those... those were physical."  
"Yes." She agreed with a hissing sort of growl. "But something tells me if I'd broken some open again, I'd have gotten deeper than just flesh."  
She didn't mean to--! She couldn't be... He got up immediately, tried to leave the room, tried to escape from the need to understand or explain--but he found himself pushed rather violently up against the wall on his way by, long before he reached the door.  
Kyrie was _strong_, that was what he first acknowledged. By far stronger than he'd ever given her credit for. She managed to easily hold him against the wall, so much so that it actually _hurt_. Were he not so sincerely _surprised_, his Turk instincts would have had her half-dead on the ground long before he was able to think it through. There was only one other time in his life when he'd been so taken aback...  
Her forehead was pressed against the wall at his side, not allowing him to see her face--but her words held enough. Raw, rough and taunt... it ached even to hear. "Vincent..."  
Regardless of the arms against his chest holding firmly... he felt the quiver in them. She wasn't looking at him, and she quite obviously didn't mean to do so. He felt his throat go dry with the idea; whatever stability she'd had for all that time before... was slipping. Dangerously so. She was _clinging_ to him more than holding him in place all of a sudden, and though he knew he could have gotten away... he didn't want to anymore.  
She surprised them both by _fighting_ the arms quickly wrapped around her, visions and memories--her own and others'--overcoming her exactly when she needed the comfort most. He could sense that just as easily as he could sense nightmares, finally countering her panicked strength with every thread of his own. "Kyrie." Whispered. Suggested.  
The fight stopped, but the unwanted, not quite subtle enough tremble through her body remained. Still she turned her face away, unwilling for even a chanced meeting of eyes. When a cold metal claw made tentative contact with her cheek with the intention to turn her head, she half-growled, "Leave it."  
He did not drop his hand away--but he didn't use any more pressure to force her to look at him, either. "I won't run if you won't." He promised.  
She turned to him then, without the need to be coaxed. Her eyes remained surprisingly dry... but the storm was certainly visible over the horizon of her irises. Somewhere, off in the distance... some day. "I shouldn't have come here."  
"Maybe not." He agreed, feeling a calm wash over him even as he was _certain_ he ought to be fearfully trying to extract answers from her. "But you're here now."   
"Fair enough."   
"Rest a little of your weight on all of us, then."  
"You bastards _have_ been talking, haven't you?" she found it in herself to joke a little.  
"Quite often."  
She felt so damnably _weak_ there, having to be held for fear of not being able to stand on her own... or was that it? No, she didn't want to know--she wanted only to regain control and walk out as strong and self-assured as always. She trusted the man before her with her life... and maybe with her weakness... But she had to trust him with one more thing, as well. "Vincent, please, don't... don't tell them."  
He kept a careful, weighted silence in place of an immediate response. It deserved some thinking about; she didn't want Rodger or John to know she'd had a mild slip... That struck him as dangerous, if not ultimately destructive... and all too familiar from another, long ago. "You shouldn't be keeping secrets."  
"I know it." She sighed, a little distractedly. Her focus solidified again when she found the words she'd been searching for. "I know. But this one... is going to be utterly necessary."  
Whatever she was that deep into... "This is too much to ask."  
Somehow she knew that he wasn't referring to what she'd asked of him--rather, what the universe seemed to be asking of her. "Necessary." She repeated, quietly.  
"And what is expected of you this time?"  
"My heart." She found herself answering honestly--and not just for herself.  
He blinked at her response. Pulling back, he searched her eyes carefully for _anything_ else, willing more of an answer... but there didn't seem to _be_ any more. Not to mention her eyes... her eyes were... different, somehow... He found himself momentarily thrown back to the days when he was a fresh young Turk, back when his rage was clear--he suddenly wanted nothing more than to grasp her by the throat and _shake_, to _scream_ his demand for a better explanation. She must have seen it in his gaze; while she didn't pull away, she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. He just... he didn't understand... and he _wanted_ to understand...  
"These things..." she whispered roughly, as though her very voice were struggling to be free of whatever weight was holding her soul against the ground, "They... aren't mine... but they belong to me, anyway."  
She and Cloud truly did have a little too much in common. His breathing was shallow, his voice ragged. "Lucretia..."  
She recognized the name from years ago... when he revealed to her that Lucretia was his lost love, was a Loire, was a part of her bloodline so many centuries ago...  
He continued, regardless of the pain it caused him to do so. "She... gave birth to Sephiroth."  
The _world_ skidded to a dead halt. Her eyes were wide with the surprise the words brought to her.  
Vincent did everything he could to keep speaking, to keep revealing. She _needed_ this, and he had to be strong to offer this to her... "She chose Hojo over me... or maybe that's what he had her believe, somehow... I don't... _know_... who his biological father is... and I'm not sure anyone ever found out... but..."  
It was just... just so... she couldn't quite... Sephiroth... _did_... look like... She couldn't speak. Could hardly breathe with that revelation. There was an excellent chance that...   
"The rest you know." He finished, feeling sick and weak and generally disgusted with himself. Again. He _deserved_ to suffer. She was wrong.  
She looked up, finding his eyes closed tight in an effort to push back each and every emotion that had started to bubble up to the surface. "Oh... Vincent..." More than pain, it was... an awful guilt. Piled upon him over centuries...   
"It's not your... casual sort of pain." He responded in a whisper.  
"No." She agreed. "But when is it ever?"   
At least she had a point. Enough of one to get his breath to even out, his eyes to open again.  
If anyone knew better than to give in without having the final say, it was Kyrie. "It's _still_ not your fault."  
He smirked with her words, finally releasing her--but certainly not pushing her away. "It wouldn't have happened if I'd--"   
"Vincent." Pointed, but not angry. "_Not your fault_. You're just going to have to get over that ego thing."  
It was good. And it was... okay. Maybe he _didn't_ have anything to fear... "I'm... sorry, Kyrie. I didn't... mean..."  
She waved it off quietly. She wasn't exactly without fault, herself. "We have our moments."  
He nodded, silent. They understood one another again... and that was what mattered for the moment. All that mattered.

She knew she shouldn't have been surprised. It was still a touch "mysterious", but... whatever. She'd learned better.  
Cloud was leaned against the wall next to the entrance to the Estate library, quite obviously waiting for her. Instead of a greeting, he held out his hand--a brilliant green orb emerging from his palm. "Here... it's a mastered Restore materia. You'll need it."  
A million things she could have said... but what was more important, was that she didn't _need_ to say any of them. reaching forward, she accepted--a powerful surge of warmth and electricity flowing up her arm as the materia settled comfortably on her chest with the others. "Thanks, Cloud."  
He nodded, pushing away from the wall and taking a step away before turning to ask, "Closer?"  
"A little." She confirmed. "I'll let you know."  
She got a quiet chuckle in response before he walked away. Perhaps he was a fool for worrying about her in the first place.

Kyrie was greeted just inside the front entrance with a series of quietly spoken welcomes from the many assistants, being pointed over to where John and Rodger sat at a console. As she approached, she noticed a look of worry on both of their faces... not exactly surprising, but not quite what she wanted to see, either.  
"Squall was linked to Shiva." Her husband announced immediately. "And so was Laguna."  
Well, that certainly wasn't _bad_ news... "That's not exactly a hopeful look on your faces, though..." she pointed out quietly.  
John read the worrisome passage over Rodger's shoulder. "'The use of Guardian Forces has been linked to widespread memory loss and occasional insanity.'"  
She had to admit, that wasn't the best news she'd ever gotten. _At least it's only occasional..._ "Shouldn't have too much of a problem with that last one, at least."  
"True." The half-devil didn't miss a beat.  
Serious thought was certainly of importance, though. When she didn't even know quite what was going on in the first place... "Does it say anything about where Shiva might be?"  
"There aren't any entries after they were all freed." The brunette informed. "But..."  
"Laguna might know." She finished his thought, voice extremely quiet. She _did not_ want to bring her grandfather into it... but there probably wasn't an alternative. She couldn't waste any time, needing to figure out as much as she could before Riku got to them again. If he was learning how to "keep them there"... then they might be there for a damn long time, the next time...  
A look was exchanged between the two boys... and maybe it wasn't appropriate in the quiet of the library, but... Rodger lowered his voice, not keeping the weight away from his words. "I think we need to _know_ now, Kyrie."  
She sighed, quietly. Not with what she had to do... but with the knowledge she was being asked for... and that she knew she would grant because of it. Even though she'd never really given it thought... she'd known. Given the will, she would be able to share memories with them, as well. It wouldn't be as easy as accidental contact, she was sure...  
There wasn't time to go home. --Technically there _was_, of course, considering how fast the Jet traveled, but... the extra time that took may be of great importance later. "Projector room?" she suggested.  
He husband nodded once, agreeable to that idea. It was a room hardly used by anyone, completely lockable from the inside, dark... they wouldn't be interrupted once they requested it. Actually, it was quite suitable for "other things", but... they'd just have to wait.

The smell of dust greeted them. Apparently the room hadn't been used in a bit longer than they'd thought... but the head librarian had given them the key, knowing who Kyrie was and trusting her to handle the unlocking herself. That was good; at least if someone was knocking for whatever reason, they'd have to spend the time to locate a duplicate. Not that they'd _need_ the extra time... not that they needed to plan for disaster, but... it just wasn't possible to be too careful.  
They sat on the bare floor before the darkened screen, facing each other. (Of course it was dusty, but no room in the Estate was ever _dirty_.) Nervous anticipation... waiting...  
"You sure you know what you're in for?" Kyrie asked to get an honest answer.  
"Nope." John chimed in almost gleefully.  
She smirked, having gotten what she asked for. "Let me rephrase that, then. Are you both sure you... want to know..?"   
"Everything." Rodger repeated from not so long ago.  
The half-devil agreed with the soft clearing of his throat. Hey, he'd been through Hell more than once. A few memories, he thought he could handle.  
She took a deep breath, taking their responses to heart. Well... if that was that... then there was no sense in wasting more time asking again. She held out a hand to each of them... and they grasped on. As she closed her eyes, she concentrated... and let the boundaries slip.

Every distinctive, oft-remembered moment flashed in and out like a million flashbulbs, each burrowing themselves into a yet deeper portion of the minds of the witnesses. Only the most stand-out memories, the ones that had been consciously sought after, wound up easily called upon... but there was the distinct impression that the rest could be found, over time. They'd only need some kind of a trigger to call them up.   
To Rodger, it was almost more than he'd asked. More than he'd have liked to have known, to a point... but he was grateful for it. He _knew_, at last. Even with the pain, the horror of some things... he was glad to know.  
John saw intricate weavings of Heaven and Hell that were just truly frightening... but he, too, had some peace in simply knowing. He hadn't... imagined, before... she'd been through... so much...   
At least they understood why she had to help Riku; why Sora was just that important to her despite knowing him for only a few hours. Kindred spirits, indeed. _Brother._ Sora was like... a brother. They didn't literally grow up together, hadn't even known one another... but then that sharing of memory, shattered but somehow complete enough... had made it seem like such. Even more intimate than most siblings could ever imagine.  
She could shudder just knowing what they may have been exposed to... but at least they knew. They'd seen. No more frustration over not quite understanding, over not entirely being able to express or articulate... It was all shared between them. For better or worse.


	10. Chapter 10

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart and the general overall concept of Ties that Bind and Tear Apart are completely copyright Orin Drake 2005, as are the characters Kyrie Almasy Leonhart Kinneas (maybe Loire is in there somewhere..?), Rodger Kinneas and John Sparda. The name/idea of Sparda and the weapons Ebony and Ivory are copyright Capcom. The names of Griever, Vincent Valentine, Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartily, Quistis Trepe, Laguna Loire and probably a million other things I'm forgetting are copyright Squaresoft. Riku, Sora, Traverse Town, Leon, the Heartless, Ansem, the Unknowns and a million others are copyright Square and probably Disney... and whatever else I've forgotten. I'm not making money from this, so what the hell are you worried about?

Background: Same Kyrie and same universe as, in order, deep breath The Sins of Two Fathers, Retribution Nor Redemption, Descendants of the Mundane, and Fool's Journey. I suppose this story specifically came from Fool's Journey (and Make 'em Smile, and This Mess... but nevermind), in one sense... but really, it was spawned by a theoretical conversation by a friend one late, late night. (And I still hate you. grin) It's set a few months after Fool's Journey, by the way.

Possible **_WARNINGS_**: You better believe this will likely contain a lot of foul language, "possible" weird sexual situations, relationships that are generally considered not part of the mainstream, plenty of violence, and a hell of a lot of screwing with the heads of readers and characters alike. If you've read _anything_ of mine before, you probably know what to expect. It's gonna get dirty in here. Also keep in mind that this was thought up and written well before any plot detail on _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out, so... yeah.

**_GREAT BIG STORY-RELATED NOTE:_** A lot of of this story was "planned" (as much as I _can_ plan anything with Kyrie) well before _Kingdom Hearts 2_ came out. At this point, I've almost completely spoiled myself as to plot points of the game (yay spoilers!)... but I'm rather planning to stay with the original direction this story was going in, in the first place. Therefore, there _will_ be references to _Kingdom Hearts 2_, but... generally don't worry about me spoiling anything for you. I guess that makes this AU. Dammit.

Do I have enough warnings up here? Heh.

Ties that Bind and Tear Apart  
Chapter 10  
By Orin Drake

The silence that filled the room was of a... unique variety. Fear... awe... hatred... love... compassion... and something _other_. Something so... raw and... vital...

Memories hit, again and again in waves. Cycles. Nothing solid at first... but as the silence stretched on, the witnesses were realizing just how much they'd really asked for. It was... a little bit terrifying. They just couldn't understand... couldn't fathom how she wasn't _breaking all the time_...

"This... is what you keep to yourself..?" Rodger whispered, almost unable to find his voice at all. The only thing keeping him from stark raving madness... was the fact that most of the memories had faded into unconscious things, hidden behind his own experiences.

There was a touch of... something resembling guilt inside of her for a moment. The guilt of not having told them... even half of everything. She didn't _lie_ and she didn't purposely _hide_ it, but... there were things... Dreams... thoughts... occasions when she was alone... Even if she could have answered him, she didn't think she'd have wanted to.

"I should go talk to Laguna." She said at last, diverting... everything... There may well be time to explore these things later--not in that moment, when she could find an answer to the latest little problem to run into her life. Not when there was the possibility of a puzzle piece sliding into place. If her grandfather knew where Shiva was... or perhaps still had some kind of connection to her...

Rodger nodded, still feeling dizzy from the experience... and knowing perhaps it was best to stay behind for the moment, to gather himself. "Just... come back soon."

She promised to do so with a kiss, turning to wonder about the other boy. She noticed that John hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken. He hadn't so much as looked at her... There didn't seem to be anger at her, though. Maybe he was... still trying to understand what he'd just been through. For that, she should leave him alone. It didn't feel... _good_, but... she swallowed and left. It needed to be done. This was something that actually had the potential to be... completed.

Rodger continued to sit, trying to regain some semblance of... "reality"... There had been something they'd been privy to... that she hadn't. She hadn't even known... _Sora_ hadn't even known what was waiting inside the shadows of his own heart...

But the brunette sitting there... he knew. He'd felt it. "You took it, didn't you?"

John didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Rodger sighed, an entirely separate pain spreading through him. This... was bad.

Every step made her heart ache a little. To involve Laguna... seemed so far beyond wrong. Asking for help from the man that had lost too much...

Maybe she could talk to Vincent, sure. Get him to research it. Ask subtle questions. Hire a ship to get her to wherever she needed to go.

But this... as painful as it was... would have to be done on her own. Biting the inside of her cheek, she managed to keep her stride all the way to his office--where Kiros was collecting an assortment of papers just outside.

"Ah, Kyrie." He greeted pleasantly. "He's in. Just make sure not to tell anyone."

"Never." She was able to smile somewhat effectively. Normally, she'd have stuck around to make conversation... but she just didn't have it in her. He was busy enough not to notice, she was sure. The man was always a living storm of motion, always _doing_ something.

Even as she stepped into the office... her stomach clenched, muscles tensed... it hurt. She pondered turning back, making a run for it--but she was caught. "Kyrie! What a nice surprise!"

She really wished it were. She may have been able to fake it--if Kiros hadn't entered at just that moment. She sat down, but... she could not call up a smile. And she knew he'd already noticed. _Oh, Laguna..._

He leaned forward slightly, concern already bleeding the general cheerfulness from his features. "Is... something the matter, Ky?"

"No." She whispered at first, not entirely aware that he'd been asking her the question--then snapped out of it very quickly when she realized his eyes were settled on her. "No, nothing."

As Kiros walked by to hand off the paperwork, he actually managed to elbow Laguna at the same time, indicating that he ought to keep questioning. For all of the president's inadequacy at recognizing subtlety, at least he could pick up on some easily hidden signals.

Or not so easily hidden, in Kyrie's case--she saw her grandfather jump as he got elbowed in the ribs... and grinned a little to herself. Ah, Kiros. She really should get to know him better.

"A-are you sure?" Laguna pressed, a little clumsily.

She wished she could tell him. She really, really did... but it seemed like too much. Knowing her world history was quite enough, but to know him on a personal level to go along with that... the guy had just been through too much to burden again. She just... couldn't do it. "I... no. It's just... an off day."

He saw the lie. Worse, maybe... on some unconscious level, he must have seen the pain behind it. "I just... want to be in your life."

_Oh, Hyne..._ Her heart ached just a little to hear it spoken that way. "You _are_ in my life." She felt the need to assure him, first. And then... and then she felt an elbow in her own side, Kiros walking back through to pick up a "forgotten" sheet of some kind. The smile hardly shone through--but it was there. _You know much more than you let on._ Taking a deep breath... she took a leap of faith. "I'd like to find Shiva."

Laguna blinked before his eyes went wide. Of all the things... "The Guardian Force, Shiva? Why?"

"I believe she can help." She simplified as best she could. "I'm having... memories. That aren't mine. I'm... re-living parts of Squall's life." Somehow, stating more seemed a little cruel to both of them. It _had_ been only Squall's, but since then...

"But, he's..." The word "dead" was too close to having been spoken, ultimately unable to be spilled from his lips.

She nodded. "I think Shiva may be able to help. If I can find her."

Her grandfather took a moment to think. He remembered where _he'd_ found her... and he could only assume that she would return there. It had been her home, he'd known that. Certainly she'd have gone back after the world was in peace again. At least it was an excellent starting point. "Alright. I'll get the Ragnarok ready."

There was a deep breath of relief on Kyrie's part. She needed to give him much more credit--he knew when things were really important.

He'd picked up the phone to make a call--but dropped the receiver back down for the moment. "And Ky... I just... thanks."

"I didn't want you to be burdened." She admitted, a little reluctantly.

He nodded. He knew his granddaughter well enough; just like Squall, in that respect. "I understand. But I'd still like to know. I'd always like to know."

There was a flash of something in his eyes that she recognized... though what it was and how she'd seen it were complete mysteries. She was getting used to that kind of thing, though. Thinking that letting go and running with instinct was likely the best way to handle things, she gently did just that. "He did love you, you know. He didn't have the faintest idea of how to express it, but... he did. They both did. And I love you, too."

Laguna couldn't respond. There was no way he was willing for his voice to break then--and maybe there was nothing to say. He just walked around the desk and wrapped his arms around her. For a very long time.

And if she could let herself, if she could only give herself permission... she would have sobbed like a baby in his arms. She needed that emotion, though; couldn't let it go just then. He was doomed to look after a bunch of fucking orphans for the rest of his life, wasn't he?

It was a laughing thought, though. He'd taken them all in, made them all part of his family. For someone who'd never truly been a father, he'd been _the_ parental influence for anyone that needed him. Of everyone she'd ever known, he was the most kind-hearted and well-meaning... and still she hardly knew him. It would need to be remedied... when she was better able.

"Okay." He finally pulled back, having composed himself. "I guess I'll... wait here..."

"You can come." She invited casually. "Might as well, since you're the only one who knows where we're going."

"Good point." He smiled warmly at her. "Alright. Go get the boys, then. I'll arrange everything."

It wasn't that she was surprised to find the two of them still sitting in the projector room. Her surprise came with the look the two of them were exchanging. It was rather... heated. Maybe in that case it was best to ignore... or pretend to ignore. They'd just been through a hell of a lot, after all. She remembered the memories that had come with the Cloud in the other world... not to mention Sora's... and now the other two had to deal with those _and_ hers. It couldn't have been easy.

"Laguna's getting the Ragnarok ready." She informed them simply. "You're both requested to join."

Another bit of staring silence responded before Rodger finally turned to her. "Sure you want us there?"

She'd have had to have been blind to miss the glare John gave him at that question... and yet she continued to ignore it all for the moment, cataloging it away for later study--and, very likely, interrogation. "I thought we'd all prefer to be together... just in case."

It was a good point. One her husband couldn't risk arguing at the time. "That's true. Okay, then." It took a surprising amount of effort to stand up... and under normal circumstances, he'd have made jokes about the world being placed on shared shoulders. It was just a... little too literal to laugh about.

The half-devil looked a little less weighed down, physically... but his gaze was still distant. Not quite meeting Kyrie's. He just... he _couldn't_. He knew he'd done... a terrible thing, but...

"John?" she interrupted, unable to ignore that particular portion of things. "You okay?"

He answered the only way he knew how. The light in his eyes was forced, but the sentiment was sincere. "Your mind is a filthy, disgusting, wonderful place."

They hadn't even quite made it to Laguna's office before he managed to find them, Kiros following, escorting them to where the Ragnarok was already docked and prepared to leave. Impressive work, even for a president.

Kyrie was quite disappointed in not finding Nida at the helm. She didn't know who it was since she only saw his back, but the soldier gear pretty much told her it wouldn't be a fun-filled ride of barrel rolls and impossible spirals. She supposed she might have to entertain _herself_.

It was then that entertainment came completely unexpectedly. All of them were still standing on the bridge, enjoying the view, when Laguna had made some mildly tasteless joke to try and raise their spirits. "Guess the world needs saving again, huh?"

"Some world." They heard the pilot murmur under his breath. "Gotta be an idiot to want to save this place."

For all intents and purposes, it could be said that Laguna... snapped. His eyes were blazing at he turned and regarded the pilot. "You will _not_ disrespect this world. I _fought_ to save this place. My son _died_ to keep everything you _know_ alive, as did his beloved. My granddaughter might die yet along with all the ones she keeps close. _Everyone_ I love is involved in this, so don't you _dare_ fucking disrespect the potential of this world _or_ the people who give their lives to protect it."

Kyrie... was... in shock. Never had she heard Laguna angry. In fact, it didn't seem like _anyone_ had. Ever. He was not a man to _be_ angry, let alone let it all out in such a concise way. It was really the first time she'd ever seen what the man was capable of; she saw where her father got it. And, hopefully, she saw where she could draw it from.

Everyone else was absolutely stunned. Honored and horrified to have seen what they had, but...

Laguna himself had since cleared his throat, the storm of rage passing. "Sorry." He told everyone without looking back.

"Not a thing to be sorry about." Kiros responded, quietly. Even he had been knocked off his guard by... _that_...

Kyrie grasped her grandfather's arm; a show of support more than anything. She understood the rage... she just never suspected that Laguna of all people had it in him.

"No." The president shook his head, putting a hand over his granddaughter's. "That was completely uncalled for. I'm sorry, er..."

There was an immensely long pause before the answer came from the uniformed pilot. "Rob Paragol, Sir."

The name brought up sparks in Kyrie's eyes. "You fucking prick." Came out of her mouth before she knew it... and then she had to clear her throat. "Uh... we've met."

Rodger crossed his arms and glared--that was the little red-headed bastard who'd approached her at the lunch table in Garden when they'd first started to become friends, trying to get her into a fight. She almost broke his nose before he could act, too. "He has that effect on people."

Good old asshole Rob turned around to argue--then was met with the piercing gaze of a half-devil looking very much out for blood. Not to mention everyone else's glares; that incident in Garden had not been a secret, to put it lightly. Quistis had wanted everyone to congratulate Kyrie for having done it, and the rest of the Garden staff had wanted to spread rumors so that no one would ever be doing _that_ again. Oh well. He turned back around, shut up, and kept piloting.

The rest of them calmly made their way to the small observation room. Door sliding closed behind them, Laguna announced, "I'm going to assign him to another ship. I don't want him flying the Ragnarok."

Kyrie would never be complaining about that one. "Where's Nida, by the way?"

"Taking a well-deserved vacation." He admitted.

A shame. For _anyone_ to have missed that.

There really wasn't a lot of time taken in getting to the area Laguna had specified. They landed just southwest of Shumi Village, thinking a touch too late about not having the most proper clothing for that kind of cold. Kyrie shrugged it off--she still had her leather jacket, solid save those two holes in the shoulder. She was rather used to Trabia's sudden cold fronts, anyway.

Laguna, on the other hand, had invaded the emergency closet in the back for a couple of coats--both for himself. It was... really rather amusing.

"You _sure_ you've been here before?" Kyrie teased as they stood in front of the exit ramp, catching what they could of the heated interior for as long as possible.

Her grandfather gave her a grin--then a shiver. "Not really by choice... but I'd like to keep repressing some of that."

She found that particularly amusing, glancing back at her boys... finding them both looking just a touch less than amused. The memories must have been one hell of a shock. "Why don't you two stay here..."

"You sure?" Rodger looked particularly concerned all of a sudden.

"Yeah." Laguna agreed casually. "We're probably just looking around right now, anyway."

"Actually..." Kyrie corrected in a very soft tone, not even knowing quite why she'd done so. It was the... strangest little tickle of a feeling she got, somewhere in the back of her mind. Something familiar, but impossibly so--something familiar from another person. "I... think she might be... here."

Silence fell. That was... uncanny...

"Stay here." She continued, the feeling having become enormously strong--but far from overwhelming, or even dangerous. "There might be a fight, but... I don't think there will be."

Her grandfather was clearly doing his best not to physically keep her back. "Getting a GF without a fight?"

"I hope she'll... remember me." She shook her head, not even understanding what she was saying... but it was important to do it herself. She knew that part, anyway. No time to waste, she turned and walked down the ramp.

Boots sinking in the snow, she swallowed. Hard. There was... nothing in her range of experience to tell her what may happen next. So cold... so much cold surrounding her senses--and then a _figure_ walked toward her from the shapelessness of the snow scattering in front of her, a being with an otherworldly gait; so powerful, so smooth and regal...

_Everything_ in Kyrie's being told her to run. To pick up her gunblade and fight. The unmistakable but unknowable vastness of a near-_god_ was walking toward her... It didn't seem right to merely stand there and be approached.

Her muscles twitched as if they might force her to run by their own volition--but she felt a sudden warmth at her shoulders. As if someone had placed their hands there, supportive, not holding her _there_ but holding firm to their resolve if only to add to her own. It was something distinctly _Sora_...

No time to think let alone act; Shiva was upon her--and with one swift motion of the delicate demi-goddess' outstretched hand, she was no longer _outside_. Absorbing a Guardian Force for the first time was very much like stopping a fully loaded Jet train with one's forehead... but just a touch less painful. The initial feeling was a raw, agonizing, unstoppable _power_ racing through her mind--and then a cool, cautious tremble throughout every one of her senses as the guardian's personality began to settle in and come through.

It ached. For the breadth of a second in the beginning, Kyrie felt as if her head were splitting, soon to be followed by the rest of her--and more memory, more flashes of memory that she had no business knowing for herself--but she slowly became aware that it was simply her body's reaction to the sheer force that had suddenly perched quite comfortably right inside her brain. Unnatural, to say the least... but she instantly became aware of the presence within, and its wish not to harm her. It felt like a familiar body wrapped around her own... but without the physical aspects of the scenario.

Darkness flashed over her as time stopped--and Shiva spoke. _"No, not a Cub..."_ the sweet, frozen voice echoed in her mind, correcting the GF's earlier assessment. _"A Lioness. Welcome back, Lioness."_

_You remember me?_ She'd thought she had only been witnessing Squall's memories... not that she'd... she'd managed to _be_ there somehow...

_"Of course."_

Kyrie swallowed. So many thoughts, so many concerns swirling through her mind... _I'm so sorry to have to call on you..._

_"It is alright. I have been waiting for you."_ Tenderly, almost fearfully, Shiva searched her new host's memory--discovering exactly what had happened to the Lion of Balamb. Even being a Guardian Force, so far and beyond any mortals she'd ever junctioned with... she felt a wave of mourning. She was Squall's first GF, his first huge accomplishment; not to mention, she and the other GFs were very much caught up in the small group's heartfelt battle. Knowing what happened to them was perhaps more important to her than most, but... it hurt, a little. Hurt to see the Lion die in such a fashion... not to mention the Knight so embedded into his deepest thoughts. _"I am sorry for pressing."_

Kyrie had _felt_ her memories searched through like pages in a book; but, honestly, she couldn't say she minded. Somehow Shiva's presence calmed her... just like it had her dad. _It's okay._ She assured the Guardian Force.

_"I feel I should warn you, Lioness... the more you summon me to fight with you, the more memories will be destroyed."_

_And if you just... sit in and talk to me?_

_"No harm done."_

_The memories... they can regenerate, though... can't they?_

_"If there is a trigger to them, you will be able to recover them."_

She nodded, reassured. That's practically what Rodger and John were there for, then... She was suddenly a little bit glad that she'd passed her memories along.

Seeing as how they'd almost immediately gotten what they'd come for, Laguna saw no reason not to go right back to Esthar. He grinned at his granddaughter, proud of her. It didn't matter that she'd been the lucky one to gain Shiva without a battle--it was the fact that she was third generation to carry the Guardian Force inside, being strong of heart or else she'd not have been an acceptable host at all. Rodger gave her congratulations and thumbs-up. John, though... he gave half-smiles and nods, but kept mostly quiet and to himself. Kyrie assumed she could get a full report on that later. By the time they'd gone out and come back, it was past dark... so maybe everyone was just a bit tired, too.

Arriving back at the palace, she was not at all surprised to find Vincent there to greet them. Hm, maybe he'd been worried... not that he'd have admitted it.

"And where to, now that you've managed another accomplishment?" he "joked" with the serious intention of getting a real answer out of her.

The question itself was suspicious. "Why ask?"

The raven-haired man sighed quietly, knowing his next words would be... harsh. "You should stay here. Stay close."

She knew what he was saying, but... it was too similar... to reminiscent of when she almost lost her mind to Jenova... It wasn't as if he could do a thing to protect any of them, anyway. When Riku came to get them... they were going, and Vincent would be staying behind. That's all there was to it. Although... "Do me a favor."

A strange request in any circumstance. He gave a barely seen nod.

Kyrie made certain they were far enough away from Laguna, Rodger and John for her words not to carry... too far. Even with John's spectacular hearing, she doubted that he'd be able to focus much on anything she was saying, from what she'd seen... "You can get us a suite. Get them used to the idea. I'll... find my way over soon."

More memories to dig up, he realized. Well... appropriate enough time. Or so he could understand. Another nod, and they subtly separated.

"I've got to go check up on a few things before I get settled." She called back to her boys. "I _will_ see you guys soon." She was off without hesitation. _Something_ was bothering them both, quite a lot. Maybe they'd merely gotten more than they asked for.

Cloud used to have an apartment deep within the city... but that was before he'd more or less abandoned it to be trapped in space with Sephiroth's head. When he'd come back down to the planet, Laguna had offered him a much nicer place in the estate, not too far from where Vincent also stayed. Considering it got him free late night food in the palace staff's cafeteria, he would have been a fool to say no.

She knew the lay-out of the apartment hallways well, even though she'd never actually been there. The east and west wings were pretty much the same thing, just mirrored... not to mention, she'd found out where everyone lived long ago--just in case. Simply to commit to memory.

Actually standing in front of Cloud's door, however... she couldn't bring herself to knock. She could hardly lift her eyes to stare at the gold plated numbers, let alone... No. That much wasn't right. She was interrupting his life too much, turning the soil of what was buried in his past by his own hand. It was too much to ask... and it just wasn't fair. Memories drummed up by the merging of mind and Guardian Force were likely out of play by any fair game's standards.

As she turned to walk away, however... she heard the click of the lock inside. She glanced over her shoulder to find an almost impossibly odd-looking scene: Cloud in nothing but ragged flannel pajama bottoms and a pair of... fuzzy slippers. It made her lips quirk; she tried very hard to control her breathing so she wouldn't laugh and risk waking everyone else in the hall.

But he understood there was a more serious matter underneath. "Come in." He invited instantly, his tone hushed.

She did as he asked, holding her breath until she got inside. Only a mild chuckle, really. She cleared her throat, pretending not to take a look around... but one couldn't help but notice the immense space. Nicely furnished, even. "I hope I didn't wake you..." she began, a little awkwardly even by her own definition.

He shook his head with a small, tired smile. "I didn't know why I woke up... but I had a feeling."

There was still something resembling guilt inside of her... not wanting to interrupt his sleep, not wanting to bring herself further in. She couldn't deny the comfort she found there, though. The... peacefulness. He indicated that she follow him to the kitchen, and she did so eagerly.

He flipped the light switch just inside, blinking with the sudden flood of brightness. Taking a turn directly for the refrigerator, he was conscious enough to remember his manners. "Do you want something to drink? Eat?"

She couldn't help a peek over his shoulder at the wide array of things in his fridge. "Wow, Cloud. For someone who's always packing food away on video game night, you eat well."

He gave a tired grin over his shoulder. "I've learned to appreciate the finer things over the years, too."  
"Must be making a killing with the shop." She ventured.

"Well, that and Laguna doesn't necessarily appreciate all of his gifts." He admitted with humor. "But, back to the question..."

"No, thanks." It was nice of him. It was _all_ so nice of him. "I'm going to try not to stay here too long."

He nodded, reaching to the counter to gather a worn-looking cup before pouring himself some water. A quick drink, that was all.

She smiled a little to herself at the... mundane nature of it all. Former hero of the planet standing in his apartment in Esthar in pajama pants and fuzzy slippers, drinking from a worn cup. "I'm sorry, Cloud... I don't want to... tear open more old wounds..."

"Go on." He offered, quietly, unmoving. He'd been watching her, waiting for her questions.

"I... wanted to know..." where to start was the hardest place. There were so many bits and pieces, gleaming back at her like little shards of broken glass... how could she pick the one to go first? "More about Sephiroth." Was what wound out finding its way to the front first.

He held in the hiss that his breath wanted to make. He really hadn't expected that one to sting as much as it did. "Mind if I get some tea, then?"

She smiled a little at that. "Well, in that case... I'll help you."

He nodded, walking to the cabinet over the sink where the kettle was kept. Maybe the conversation would be easier if they were both busy doing something. Much as part of him didn't want to think about it, it was Zack-logic; once a person was focused on a task, they just might feel more free to talk.

Of course... there wasn't really much to _do_. Not to mention, the water would heat in no time, thanks to Esthar-made appliances. Ah well, Zack-logic only applied to so many situations, anyway... a thought that amused him enough to wake up a bit more, at least. He got two mugs down from the cabinet, having just enough time to drop a tea bag in each before the kettle started to steam. He'd long ago removed the whistling component... it just reminded him of one too many alarms.

Having zoned out for a moment there, Kyrie blinked to find one of the full mugs held out to her. She had every intention of a delicate and thankful refusal, but... his eyes were utterly insistent. She took the offered drink, instead, following him back to the living room. He silently indicated the area on the large couch next to him... and while she wasn't sure how good of company she made in the first place, she accepted.

Leaning forward to place the tea on the coffee table, Cloud began to prod carefully. "There are things that you _need_ to ask. So, ask."

She took a breath, electing to hold her own mug. The warmth was almost burning... but that sensation seemed to keep her there, in that moment. It was too easy to get lost in the memories of others... especially with the newly comforting presence in her head did a lot more to relax her than she ever would have imagined. She remembered, from seeing it in Sephiroth's memories, the young blond cadet giving him a shy kiss... And then more recently, over the past several days, when she'd had sparks of other indications of _some_ kind of... "mutual appreciation"... It was hard to find words, because she wasn't even certain what she was asking. "He..." she paused, knowing without a doubt that Cloud knew who she was referring to, "Was always... part of you... Close to you, even after..." Where were her thoughts going? And why did they keep calling up Rodger and John?

After all that time it was still a bit hard to talk about. "My hatred of him... was his... gift..." he shivered a little at the memory. "It kept me... coming back."

It was a fucked-up kind of love, she realized. Even after the man had gone insane, after most of his consciousness was consumed and used by Jenova... a part of him, the him that was really Sephiroth, still remembered Cloud... still protected him, to a point... and maybe part of him knew Zack was dead, so Cloud was all he had left... "You killed him... that first time..." she went on, wondering if the bits of memory would be confirmed.

He nodded, his eyes slightly distant. Not that he meant the question to sound as trite as it did, but he needed to ask. "What's this about?"

"I have a bad feeling." She tried to joke.

He took it as more, certainly. It was all coming back to haunt her... again. He understood that feeling. "To be honest, I wish I knew what was going on."

"So do I." She murmured.

"Don't feel like you need to protect... anyone." He knew what a burden that could add to oneself, after a while. And she'd been holding so much in for so long...

She looked at him evenly. "Don't I?"

"I don't think so." He responded in all honesty. "Not anymore."

She sighed, unsure. "I don't... _want_ to keep it away from everyone... but it seems like it's just... too much..."

It was actually kind of... funny. Cloud even surprised himself with a short-lived chuckle. "Hey, I understand that."

"And... I wouldn't know where to begin." Even Kyrie could admit that it felt like she was merely making excuses at that point.

"That's the easy part." He assured her.

She sighed, quietly. It wasn't that _he_ was frustrating her. Rather... "I just don't know enough, myself. I couldn't possibly start explaining... what seems to be nothing at all."

"Try." More of a plea than a demand.

Something about his tone actually got her to do so. Maybe it would ease one of their burdens... at least the possibility was enough not to ignore. She shook her head with the insanity of her own words, but let them flow forth anyway. The details didn't matter, weren't important. "I have to... I _need_ to protect... more worlds than this one. And it's become... very, very personal."

"Matters of the heart." He summed up, not quite certain where the term had come from.

Her stomach clenched a little to hear even the slightest bit of understanding in his voice... but she was exceptionally grateful for it. "Matters of the heart." She agreed.

He shook his head to himself, with wonder and phantom memories of his own. "You've never tried to run away. Not even once."

"You know, you're just too serious, Cloud." She teased mildly.

A smirk graced his lips as he reached for his tea . "It's been a long time since I've been accused of that."

She smiled a little. "No, I've never had the sense to pick up and run, I'm afraid."

Her stone-cold delivery sent him into another tired chuckle. "Neither did I. At least... I don't think so." He stared down into the steaming cup for a moment, trying to grasp at things that had been darkened by time... or some other awful thing. "I wish I could remember more... but I just can't."

She swallowed thickly, knowing that not even the tea would help her drying tongue. Memory... this whole thing was about different memories... experiences... hearts... But so many had been lost around her... so many she could never save, never make right...

They really were similar in too many ways. He felt her shift in thought, not so much as needing to look up at her. "Some day... everything will be alright."

Her breath caught... though she fought with every ounce of her strength not to let it happen, not to let her throat close up with tears she refused to shed. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes."

She wished very much that she had his faith in the way the universe worked. "All things return to the planet, right?"

A careful sip of the hot drink gave him time to compose himself, to still his voice. It would do her no good if he got all emotional. "Yes."

"Does it--" she stopped herself abruptly with the shake of her head. She couldn't ask _that_...

"Go on."

"Does it... hurt? That you haven't... returned yet?"

Damn, she'd caught where his thoughts had nearly gone before. "Sometimes."

She swallowed, sorry she'd even asked. But, he was willing... and she couldn't deny the opportunity to know for sure. "Then why stay?"

A decent question. "When I've got something to die for... I think I'll return, then. Too much to live for now."

She felt his hand lightly rest between her shoulders, forcing her eyes shut so her reserve would hold. No. No. Not... not then. Not yet. She had to be... strong... "You're just trying to weaken me, aren't you." She accused in the best joking manner she could.

"No." He responded honestly. "You need to know that someone else understands what you feel. I never had that."

The hand was warm, and comforting... but things inside of her were breaking. The plea she made was not one she had intended to speak, but it seemed to find its way out regardless. "Don't say you stay because of me."

He recognized the raw ache in her voice, hand moving up and down in slow, unconscious motions. "No. You're a part, but... there are others." He really wondered how much he could possibly be helping. "Besides, it's nice to have a boring life, for a while."

"Must be." She grinned weakly.

He cautiously took his hand back, running his fingers through his unruly bangs, instead. "You're not in this alone, you know. If you choose to go alone... fine. But if you need anything..."

"You've all done... quite enough." She simplified, almost comically.

That aspect didn't escape him, but the offer still had to be voiced. "We're still willing to do more. As long as you know that."

"I do." She agreed, quietly. Holding the hot mug in her hands, she stared into the amber liquid for a bit, reflecting. He hadn't always been so... eager to be there for her. Not that he was ever cold, but... "You stayed at a distance for a while, didn't you?"

He nodded, finding nothing wrong with the admittance. "I didn't really want to get caught up in... anyone's life again..." There was a bizarre humor to the statement, he supposed. "And then I realized how much Vincent had warmed up to you."

Of course, she could never resist the opportunity to make fun of the man behind his back. "Vincent? Warmed?"

"Exceptionally." He grinned, remembering far too well what the man had been like when they'd first met. "But don't let him know that I noticed."

"Never. Now let's talk about him some more." She joked, a bit absently. There was still... another topic that went along with Sephiroth... One she'd brought up before, but not... that particular aspect of it... not the... emotion behind the friendship... "There's... another thing... about a... moment outside Midgar..."

He didn't need to hear any more to understand exactly what she was talking about. A look of horror and sadness crossed his face. "You didn't... see... _that_..?"

Somehow her perfect, ice cold composure never wavered as she finally set the mug down. It was her cringe when there was nothing left to hold onto that gave her away.

He sighed, painfully aware of how little he could do to protect her. Sometimes the raw memories of Zack's death would play out for him unexpectedly--not always in his dreams. Those were the days he didn't bother opening the shop.

She called him out of his spiraling thoughts long before even he knew where they were headed. "It's not your fault." Not Zack's death, not the fact that she had seen it from his memories, not his lack of being able to protect her; none of it was his fault. That hadn't at all been why she'd mentioned it.

"The hell it isn't." He countered, getting the subtleties of her meaning right away.

Her eyes fell back to the tea on the table. "I'd rather know you." She summed up, knowing she was doing a terrible job at explaining... anything... Reaching for the mug again, she found herself admitting, "I just wish I'd been able to ask permission to see it all, first."

He smiled, just a little. "Stupid girl." He teased in a gentle tone. "You're worried about the wrong things."

"And you are a damned hypocrite." She threw back, feeling a bit better.

He smirked, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes for a moment. To rest, just to rest... He swore he could feel his many centuries on the planet, regardless of his body not having changed since his early twenties. He knew she felt the same, just then; maybe she felt even older. He certainly hoped she was wiser.

She sat barely a foot away from him, scared to death. Her thoughts had drifted back to Zack... he and Cloud had been close. If the situation had been right, it could have been a fucking love story for the three of them, changing the whole of their lives--but that wasn't what had caught her mind. It was what _had actually happened_ that was playing on her thoughts... what had happened to all of them... She feared so much for everyone she loved, everyone she fought for and tried to protect. Even if they weren't all dead by the time all of this shit was over... would they end up as haunted? As pained and terrified and scarred by what they'd seen and been through?

The thought hit with more force than Meteor ever could have achieved--what of Rodger and John? Between the three of them, over, time, they'd shared blood; sometimes accidentally, sometimes... not... Did that also mean that she'd... passed on Jenova cells? Did she damn them all?

"Ky." The soft whisper beside her drew her out of her spiraling thought process. She looked up to see two softly glowing blue eyes looking back, knowingly. "It's alright." He finished, closing his eyes again.

And it _was_, suddenly. They spent the better part of an hour that way, in a comfortable and understanding kind of silence.

She spoke again only when she had finished her tea... and regained her hold on herself. "Cloud?"

"Mm?" He didn't open his eyes, half-conscious and quite comfortable.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." He replied pleasantly--and he meant it. "You alright?"

"So far so good." Assured him--suddenly having to stop herself from placing a hand on his head and proceeding to make his spikes even more messy than usual. What an... odd reaction to have had.

Well surprise, surprise--Vincent just happened to be strolling down the hallway at the moment when she'd locked and closed the door behind her. As surprised as he looked to see her, she couldn't have said she believed that either of them didn't expect to meet up. "Do you sleep in that thing, too?" she teased, noting that she never saw him without a damn suit... except, of course, when that was... "impossible"...

"No."

"Well thank Hyne." She grinned, turning and strolling back down the hall.

He caught up with her as she was walking away, not finished by a long shot. "You've been spending a lot of time with him." He started off slowly, quietly.

"Jealous, are you?" she teased.

"That must be it." His sarcasm was dead-on, as always.

But no additional quips or comments seemed to her a very serious thing. She kept walking, but slowed down considerably as they stepped out of the apartment hallways and into a generally quiet corridor. "Something else going on?"

He was not a man to admit worry to anyone--least of all her. "You two have an extensive lot in common."

When he didn't elaborate right away, she became _really_ on edge. "Vincent..."

"There were... periods of time when he was severely self-destructive." He admitted, quietly. "Sometimes he didn't realize it, but others..."

"He tried pushing everyone away." She was starting to understand part of the concern.

"Yes."

She swallowed, letting silence wash over her. There was something far deeper behind his words... and finding it suddenly seemed almost too enormous a task. "You're not one to get pushed."

"It came very close." He countered, almost too softly.

"You two were closer, once." She spoke the subtle realization she'd come to long ago.

"Yes."

"Things got damaged." She ventured a little further.

"Yes."

The one-word responses were so... unlike him. Maybe not, not _really_, but... _she_ wasn't used to them. "I'd never want to push any of you away. Not by my choice." _Or my insanity_, she thought--wishing she hadn't.

"A person can only survive so much pushing before they give up." He informed, somewhat delicately.

She shivered, wishing she knew what Cloud had done or said... but glad she hadn't run across those memories. Vincent simply _did not_ give up easily...

"You have your distance." He shifted the subject slightly. "But you must understand that it would be damaging if you tried to protect those who have already accepted the consequences."

She closed her eyes with that information, trying not to wince. She could not protect them. She wanted to, but... she knew she couldn't. And no one was asking her to try. "I understand."

"I apologize for breaking your mood." She'd looked so blissfully peaceful when she'd emerged from Cloud's apartment...

That was when she realized how truly serious it all was--Vincent had apologized. Without a wry expression hidden in his eyes or a painful quip on his tongue. "It's not wrong to be this afraid." More of a question than a statement.

"Not at all."

She nodded to herself. Whatever was happening... it was across time and worlds. The odds in her favor weren't even worth considering...

She stopped dead in the hallway, forcing the raven-haired man to stop with her. "Go talk to Cloud."

"What?" he inquired, very un-Turk-like.

It was important. It was very important. "If we're all... facing up to our memories, then... I can't be the only one trying to pull them all back together."

"I'm sure he's sleeping." He attempted, diverting... but suspiciously enough, not entirely.

"You can't be sure of that." She pointed out, noting the ever so subtle lack of _complete_ fight at the idea.

"Mako-drenched people need their rest." He tried.

She laughed quite loudly at that. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes." Vincent confirmed in his absolutely most serious voice. "Or they'll... spontaneously combust."

"Don't scare her like that." Came a surprisingly good-natured voice from just around the bend behind them.

"See, he's awake." She whispered with a grin, giving Vincent a little shove in the right direction.

He looked back at her to glare, then to deliver a message. "413." Surprising the hell out of her, he actually kept walking toward where Cloud's voice had come from.

"I heard you accost her right outside." The blonde accused, light-heartedly. "Have you no shame?"

Well, _that_ was as good a time as any for her to leave. 413... as in the suite number, where Rodger and John were. Yeah, they could all use some sleep. After she was done interrogating them.

* * *

There's probably even less sense made here, and it turned out twice as long as I'd intended but I just didn't see the need to break it up. All of that wasn't _quite_ what I was going for, but... well. We'll see what happens next time. After all... now they're all damned! WHEE! Oh, and THERE WILL BE MORE ACTION IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. Geez. I work so SLOWLY.  
If you'd like to be e-mailed when I update, drop me a line with whatever story/stories/website you'd like me to inform you of. 


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